Bonds of Pain
by Beth Weasley
Summary: Not Slash! Harry's having major problems over the summer, and so is Draco... Who's going to save them? And why are they seeing each other's suffering? Rated PG-13 for abuse in first chapters and some language. Please R&R!
1. Pain and Visions

A/N-  This is my first fanfic posted online, so I hope you like!  Please review!  Any and all flames will be used to make S'mores…

Bonds of Pain

Ch. 1-  Pain and Visions

Severus Snape was _not _having a good day.  Only a week ago, he had gotten rid of those blasted children for two months.  He had been summoned yesterday evening, to endure yet another round of torture by _Crucio_ at the hands of the resurrected Dark Lord.  He ached all over, and Poppy simply would _not_ leave him alone.  How could it get any worse?

The raven-haired boy shifted and tried to stifle a moan of pain.  Evidently Uncle Vernon could and would hold a grudge nearly eleven months.  ~At least I sent Hedwig to the Burrow with Ron,~ Harry thought.  ~This way I know she's being cared for properly.~

            Very few people would have cared as much for the safety of a bird when in the boy's situation.  Of course, very few people were as selfless and compassionate as Harry Potter, wizard in training and The Boy Who Lived.  Harry was locked in the cupboard under the stairs at Number Four Privet Drive. Home of Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley.

            Uncle Vernon was feeling particularly spiteful towards Harry due to the incident last summer as Harry had been leaving for the Weasley residence.  The Weasley twins had dropped an experimental prank toffee, which Dudley had gobbled.  The whale-sized boy's tongue had become the size of a _large_ anaconda before Mr. Weasley had been able to restore it to normal.  Uncle Vernon believed the trick to be all Harry's fault, and was now punishing his nephew with unprecedented physical beatings.

            None of the Dursleys took any consideration for the events of Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, despite the terse and explicit letter they had received from the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore.  At the end of the term, Harry had witnessed the murder of another student, Cedric Diggory, and had been forced to help give a new body to one of the worst dark wizards in history.

            Not only was Vernon Dursley beating and starving the fourteen-year-old boy in his care, Harry blamed himself for Cedric's death and the return of Lord Voldemort, once Tom Riddle.  The boy couldn't sleep for an hour without having the nightmare that replayed the Third Task, and angry Cedric and the specters of his long-dead parents berating him.  He hadn't had anything to eat since the Leaving Feast, and he was almost beyond caring.

            "BOY!!!"  Uncle Vernon's bellow shook the cupboard, and Harry flinched.

            ~What can it be this time?~ he wondered.  He couldn't even leave the cupboard, as it was well locked from the outside.

            Metal rattled as Vernon opened the locks, and the door was wrenched open by a very purple Dursley holding a piece of parchment.

            "Explain!  Who did you write to?"  Harry tried to protest that he'd written no one, but Uncle Vernon hauled him from the cupboard by the remains of a once-huge t-shirt.  The shirt was little more than rags now, and Harry had only a pair of trousers in little better shape.

            The Dursleys had tried to burn all of his belongings when he came home after term, but, fortunately for Harry, only his textbooks and school clothes would catch.  His beloved Firebolt, his father's Invisibility Cloak, and his wand were safe, aside from being locked in the linen closet.  Dudley had finally gotten his second bedroom back from the "freak."

            "Those _freaks_ won't be able to get in here no matter what you do, hear me, boy?"  As Vernon slammed him against the walls, Harry begged to be released, agreeing to anything.  Disgruntled that his new favourite sport was not going to yield any fun this evening, Vernon stuffed Harry back into the cupboard with another mild concussion and several new bruises to go with the old, and a leg and arm Harry could swear were broken.

            However, his own problems were of little concern to Harry at the moment.  Somehow, he could feel and almost see the similar plight of another boy his age, a boy he though he hated.

Draco Malfoy groaned and opened his eyes.  ~Dear Lord, I hope Father has forgotten about me for a bit.~  Used to being pampered, this summer was a shocking change for the blond boy, and it was all because of one little word.

            No.

            He had never disobeyed his father before, and now he knew why.  Lucius had commanded that his only child swear himself to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when he picked the teenager up at King's Cross Station.  It only took the memory of the look on Potter's face when he had reappeared after the Third Task, the limp corpse of Diggory clutched in his arms, a bleeding cut inside his left elbow, and that famous scar, angry and throbbing on the boy's forehead.  Draco had immediately refused.  His father had responded with unbridled cruelty.

            Despite beatings, starvation, and the Cruciatus Curse, Draco refused to change his mind.  ~Damn him, but Potter was right all along.  I _won't_ join someone like that!~  Draco might be ambitious, but he was not selling his soul for power.  He'd do it on his own.


	2. Week three, in which we have a rescue

A/N- Wheeeee!!!  Time for another chapter of  "Bonds of Pain!"  I'd like to thank Dana Malfoy for my first review ever, and just so you know, constructive criticism doesn't count as flames to me.  Oh, and I own nothing but the plot and a character and store that are coming up in Chapter… Eight, I think.*checks notebook*  Yup, Chapter Eight.  More on that when we get there.  But I don't own Harry.  Or Draco, or Sevvie, or any of the other things that are familiar to anyone.  I'm just a poor college student waiting for Order of the Phoenix.  Enjoy!  Oh, and I should be updating every other day… I hope.

Bonds of Pain

Chapter 2- Week three, in which we have a rescue

Severus was trying to concentrate on his lesson plans for third-year Potions work for the upcoming term, but he could not keep his mind on the subject.  He kept worrying about his godson.  Instead of the weekly reports he usually got from Lucius' boy over the summer, he hadn't had a single owl in three weeks,  Something was wrong with Draco, and Lucius wouldn't tell him.

            ~Damn my Gryffindor tendencies!~ the dour man repeated to himself for the sixth time that morning.  Throwing down his quill, the Potions Master stalked from his rooms and towards the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office.

            "Green M&Ms," he growled at the statue, which slid aside to reveal the spiral stairs to Dumbledore's private tower.  Barely had he tapped on the door before Albus ushered him in.

            "Lemon drop, Severus?" the older man asked, a tin of the sweets in hand.

            "Thank you."  Snape took a candy distractedly.  "I haven't heard anything from young Mr. Malfoy since the end of term, and I'm beginning to be worried.  Usually I've had three owls from him by this time.  And Lucius avoids my questions about my godson."

            "Indeed.  One might wonder if he has done something to anger his father?"  Snape nearly beat his head against the desk in frustration.  How could Albus be so calm?

            "The only thing he could do to make Lucius deny him contact with me is…"  Then it hit him.  ~Draco… my boy must have refused the Dark Mark…~  Severus' sharp intake of breath caused Dumbledore's eyes to twinkle, manipulative old man that he was.  The lean Potions Master jumped from his seat.  "Excuse me, Albus.  It seems I must save my godson from himself this time."

Harry's visions of his year-mate had continued.  It would have been hard for Harry to be sure who the boy was if it wasn't for the presence of the elder Malfoy during most of the beatings and his constant diatribe aimed at his son.

            ~God, did I misjudge Malfoy…~ Harry thought.  He would find Mal- no, Draco when he got on the train back to school—_if_ he got on the train at all, which didn't seem too likely at this point—and he was going to have a long talk with the other boy.  After apologizing, of course.

            ~And if I've been wrong about Draco Malfoy, then perhaps Professor Snape isn't really a slimy, evil git.  And maybe he really is loyal to Dumbledore.~  Harry turned in the small cupboard and bit back a cry of pain.  He definitely had a broken arm and leg, and probably several cracked ribs.  He was trying to keep the limbs fairly straight so they wouldn't heal wrong, but he wasn't even sure they were healing at all.  He wasn't being fed, after all, and he barely got any water.  Even to himself, he felt like a living furnace, and he could only hope help came soon

Draco huddled in the corner of the dark storeroom, manacles on his wrists and ankles making sure he couldn't leave the room.  Starting, he realized he'd gone into another of those odd visions.  He kept seeing a familiar black-haired boy locked in a small cubby, even more beaten and injured as he was.  Green eyes drifted across his vision, and he stiffened painfully.  Could it be… Potter?  The boy in the tiny cupboard, starving and beaten within a shred of his life was the Boy Who Lived?  Then a fragment of the last vision floated to the surface.

            _~God, did I misjudge Malfoy…~_

            If Potter—no, Harry—had been wrong about him, then he had been wrong as well.  Maybe they had more in common than fame and wealth.  More as in families that didn't care about them as people, that beat them when they didn't live up to expectations.

            ~Hell, maybe I have more in common with Weasley and Granger as well.~  Draco's head jerked to face the door as he heard a surprised shout from outside.

            "STUPEFY!!!" a familiar and welcome voice shouted, and Draco's heart leaped as he heard a body hit the floor.  A key rattled in the lock, and, with several curse words, his godfather slipped through the door, wand in hand.

            "Uncle Sev…"  Draco croaked, his throat sore from screaming.  The professor's eyes widened at the state of his student.

            "Dear stars above… Draco, I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner!"  The normally reserved Snape rushed to cradle his battered, but unbroken, godson.

            "'Sokay, Uncle Sev," Draco said, his voice low so it wouldn't carry or hurt as bad.  "Harry's worse than me."  He was going to get Harry away from those damned Muggles!

            Severus blinked as he scooped Draco up in his arms.  "Who?  Come on, let's get you back to the castle and into Madam Pomfrey's care."  He could only be talking about Hogwarts.  Good, Harry would be safe there.

            "We gotta help Harry first, Uncle Sev.  He shouldn't have gone back to those Muggles, and he won't last much longer there.  He never should have gone to them in the first place."  Draco wormed his way out of the older man's arms.  He wasn't _that_ bad off.

            "Harry who, Draco?  And how would you know?"  Severus looked at the blond boy in total confusion.  Draco sighed in frustration and rolled his eyes.

            "Potter, of course.  What other Harry do I know that lives with Muggles?  Can we just get him _now_?  I'll explain later."  Snape nodded, an odd look on his sallow face.

            "_Accio Draco's wand_," he muttered, twitching his own and raising a hand in the door's general direction.  A moment later, a familiar piece of mahogany smacked into his godfather's left hand, and the man turned and handed it to him.

            ~Good.  I didn't know where that was.~  Wands in hand, the pair sprinted from the manor and into the woods, stopping only briefly to touch before disappearing with a small _pop_.

A/N 2-Yay!  My first cliffie!  Review and tell me what you think!  Oh, and if anyone wants to beta for me, let me know in your review and leave your email or IM.  I love all my readers!  *bounces around her room*  See you Thursday! 


	3. In which rescues continue

A/N-  Hi again!  I got 2 more reviews!  Weeping Angel, here's the next bit for you.  Endora, I'm really enjoying our little game over IM  ;-)  Like I said last time, I don't own anything you recognize.  Only thing so far that belongs to me is the plot, and I'm not real sure about that, either.  *chuckles*  Anyways, on with the tale!

Oh, by the way, ~…~ is the character talking to themselves, and {…} is one of the boys talking to the other in their heads.

Bonds of Pain

Chapter 3-  In which rescues continue

~How in the nine hells does Draco know Mr. Potter's in pain?  He's so sure of it I daren't dismiss it out of hand, but… how would he know?  Why would he care?  And why is he calling the boy by his first name?~

            Severus Snape's mind was spinning as he apparated from Malfoy Manor to the end of Privet Drive, where the wards allowed apparation.  ~Wait.  Which house is the dratted boy in?~

            Surprisingly, Draco took off at a dead run as soon as he had gathered his senses.  His godfather followed, questions multiplying by the minute.  He nearly ran into the boy as Draco stopped in front of a particularly ordinary-looking house.

            "If you please, Uncle Sev?"  The blond boy waved at the door.  It took a moment for the request to register.

            "You're sure…?"  Severus asked.  Draco nodded curtly.

            "I can feel his pain… Harry's here."  His lips pursed, Snape pointed his wand at the door.

            "_ALOHAMORA!_"  A loud bang accompanied the door being blown to splinters, and Draco rushed inside before his godfather could caution him.  Severus stepped through the wreckage to find the blond pulling at a cupboard door under the stairs.  No less than five sturdy locks held the door shut.

            Wincing, Severus used the same charm as before, merely whispering the strange word.  The locks fell to the floor, and Draco nearly tore the door off its hinges before reaching inside.  What he gently pulled out and handled like delicate china made the hardened professor go completely white.

            Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was covered in bruises, with who knew how many broken bones, and blood oozing from a few cuts as dried blood flaked off in other places.

"Ssh, Harry, we're here now, they can't hurt you anymore."  The gentle words pierced the black fog, pulling Harry away from oblivion.  He opened his eyes to see a blurry shock of near-white hair bent over him.

            "Who…?"  The single word was barely more than a sigh.  The figure gently brushed a lock of his own unruly black mane away from Harry's eyes.

            "You'll be all right now, Harry.  It's Draco.  I'm here to get you out of this hellhole."  The figure—could it be the Slytherin he'd been seeing in visions?—turned to another, much darker figure next to him.  "Uncle Sev, he can't see very well.  He needs his glasses.  Could you look for them in there?"  Now that Harry thought about the other boy, he knew the blond was in bad shape but more worried about Harry than himself.

            "Dr-Draco?" he gasped, the words sending daggers into his throat.  "Not… not a… dr-dream?"  The figure shook its head, making the hair swing a little.

            "Not a dream, Harry.  I refused the Dark Mark."  Something warm and wet hit his face, then the darker figure reappeared.

            "Here are his glasses.  Wait—Draco!  You're crying!"  That sounded a lot like his Potions professor, but why would he be coming to get Harry Potter?

            "If only you knew what he's been through, Uncle Sev.  You have no idea."  The lighter figure took something—his glasses—and settled them on his face.  Everything jumped into focus.  It _was_ Draco Malfoy and Professor Snape.  ~Next to Tom Riddle, the two people I though hated me the most.~

{Next to Tom Riddle, the two people I thought hated me the most.}  Draco blinked as the thought popped into his head from what he already considered the bit of Harry in his mind.  He smiled gently, stroking Harry's coal-black locks.

            "Not anymore, Harry.  Not me, at least."  ~In fact, I think I'm going positively Gryffindor.~  Draco grinned at the perplexed look that crossed Harry's face.

            {What the hell?  I could have sworn I just heard Draco in my head…}  The thought, obviously not his own, confirmed Draco's suspicions.  Seeing the confusion rampaging through his godfather's mind, he explained.

            "I think we've mind-bonded, Uncle Sev.  Maybe our recent experiences woke some talents neither of us knew about."  Then Draco looked back at Harry.  "He needs Madam Pomfrey as soon as we can get him to her."  For once, Uncle Sev didn't argue.  Instead, he looked at the skinny boy on his godson's lap.

            "Where are your school things?  I'd rather not inflict these people on anyone else."  Harry sighed, and Draco cradled him a little closer.

            {I don't know.  They burned almost everything.  My wand, broom, and cloak wouldn't burn.  They may have put them in the linen closet upstairs.}  Harry was obviously too tired and worn out to talk, so Draco repeated everything.  His godfather took the stairs two at a time, disappearing silently at the top.  After a minute, he came back down carrying the broom, wand, and a silvery cloak.  Draco silently lifted Harry gently in his arms, and the dark head settled in the hollow of his shoulder.  Draco tried to be careful about the broken bones as he took his new friend from the Dursley residence.

            ~You'll never have to go there again, if I have anything to do with it.~

            {Thank you… my friend.}

There we go… I finally got poor Harry away from the Dursleys.  But how are they going to get to Hogwarts?  And how will Dumbledore take this development?  What the heck is a mind-bond?  Find out on Saturday when I post the next chapter!

Review and tell me what you think!

Beth Weasley


	4. In which aid is recieved

A/N-  Yay!  Another chapter!  I love the reviews I'm getting, and I'd like to say again that I don't mind constructive criticism.  If you'd like to go for the position of beta for this fic, leave your email or IM in your review, and I'll get in touch with you.

_Don't forget the disclaimer._

Oh, yeah.  Thanks for reminding me, Harry.  Do I look like Ms. Rowling?  Of course not.  Which means I don't own Harry Potter or any of the things you recognize.  Of course, I always have my imaginary Harry, Draco, and Sevvie…  Anyway, on with the story!

Bonds of Pain

Chapter 4- In which aid is received

Severus followed his two students to the end of Privet Drive, not even bothering to clean up at Number Four.  He'd tell Albus as soon as they got to Hogwarts, and the Ministry would be at the house in a flash.  Wizarding children were scarce enough that no one got away with child abuse in England.  Malfoy Manor would soon be swarming with Aurors as well.

At the end of the street, Severus reached forward to grab Draco's shoulder.  The boy stopped, and Severus pulled a Portkey from his pocket.  Making sure the stone disc touched both boys as he held it, he recited the activation charm before declaring a destination.

"Hogwarts, Hospital Wing."  He felt the familiar tug behind his navel, and they left Surrey.

They arrived in the pristine ward with only slight stumbles, surprising Poppy, who—despite the hour, nearly one in the morning—was bustling about with an armful of linens.  The plump little matron promptly shrieked and abandoned the sheets on a bed before rushing to attend to the boys.

"Dear Lord in heaven!  What have you two done to yourselves?  To think you both left here three weeks ago perfectly healthy."  Severus stayed long enough to see the little witch take pictures of the teens' conditions before he slipped out the door.  He thought it was an excellent time to tell Albus what he had found.

"It's not like either of us has had proper care in the last three weeks, Madam Pomfrey,"  Harry could hear Draco saying.  "Just treat Harry before we lose him to shock."  Touching that the blond cared about him so.  Not that he really deserved it, but he couldn't remember the last time someone treated him as if they really cared about him.  Draco had made such a change from the boy that Hermione and the Weasleys had hexed on the train.  He liked the new Draco _much_ better.

{Glad you approve,} a voice spoke dryly in his mind.  {Don't fall asleep on us.  I don't want to lose you before I even get to know you.}

~What the _hell_?  Did I just hear Draco Malfoy _in my head_?~  Harry opened his eyes just as he was being laid on a soft, clean surface.  There, standing over him, was the young blond from his visions.  He didn't know how long he'd been at the Dursleys', but Harry knew his school rival had refused his father, refused to join Voldemort and his cruel Death Eaters.

The other boy smiled wryly at him.  "It seems our similar experiences have forged a mind-bond between us.  I can hear you, too."  Now that was a shock.

"Why…?"  Harry tried to ask.  The words send shards of pain into his throat, and his eyes teared up.  ~Why'd you come for me?  Why would you want to save me, after what we've done to each other for the past four years?~  Draco, now sitting beside the bed as Madam Pomfrey took pictures and healed Harry, closed his eyes and took a deep breath before answering.

{Because I was wrong.  I was wrong to judge you and your friends without getting to know you first.  And I was wrong about Lucius Malfoy.}

~I… understand.  I guess I was wrong about you, too.  Shall we start over?~  Draco nodded in response and reached over to take Harry's hand.

"Draco Malfoy.  Not Lucius's son, not anymore."

{Harry Potter.  Ignore the scar, it's nothing but trouble.}  Draco smiled at the frank denial of the famous scar's importance.  It was one of the first honest smiles to grace his face since he was a small child, and it felt oddly natural.

"You know, the way I've been acting lately, I may need to be Resorted.  I almost feel…"

{Gryffindor.  I can almost feel it.  We're not as bad as you might think.  Our common room is certainly warmer and more comfortable than Slytherin's.}  An image of a round room, full of cozy red and gold couches and chairs with a fire blazing in the hearth, popped into Draco's mind.  That certainly did look cozier…  Wait.

~How do you know what the Slytherin common room is like?~  Harry chuckled from the bed, wincing as his arm was set.

{Remember Christmas second year, that day Crabbe and Goyle were acting weird?}  Draco frowned in thought for a moment before recalling the conversation that had taken place.  {That was me and Ron.  Polyjuice Potion.  Nasty stuff.}  A grimace crossed the other boy's face, and Draco could almost taste it himself.  Nasty, indeed.  Then Harry's jaw creaked with a yawn.

"is it all right for him to sleep now, Madam Pomfrey?"  Draco's brow wrinkled.  Harry obviously needed sleep, and he could feel the exhaustion through the bond.  It almost felt like he hadn't had an hour's sleep in days, perhaps even weeks.

{Could… could I get a Dreamless Sleep potion, first?} Harry begged.  {I don't want to go through the Third Task again.}

"He'd like a Dreamless Sleep potion, please, Madam Pomfrey."  When he saw the matron's nod, he turned back to the raven-haired boy.  "If you want to talk about it sometime, I'm here for you.  Maybe getting it off your chest will help."  Madam Pomfrey brought over a few vials, and Harry relaxed.

After Pomfrey made sure Harry was asleep, she moved to minister to Draco, making him take the next bed.  She made appropriately shocked noises as she photographed the bruises and gashes, but Lucius had spared Draco's head and hands and refrained from breaking bones, unlike Harry's Muggle jailers.  They weren't fit to be called his relatives, not after how they'd treated him.

Wrapped in bandages and medicated, Draco drifted into sleep, his eyes still locked on the battered Boy Who Lived.

Like it?  Review it!  Will Harry be able to talk again?  Will Draco find out what Harry's done over the years?  Find out Monday!

Beth Weasley


	5. In which reports are made and bonds are ...

A/N- Hi again!  I have another chapter for everyone, and I'm loving the reviews I'm getting.  Huge thanks go out to Dana Malfoy, Diana Malfoy, Silver Thorn, Crystal, and Brittany.  If anyone has any questions or suggestions, review and tell me all about it.  I'm also taking suggestions for animagus forms for our favourite characters.  I hope you enjoy the chapter!  Oh, by the way, I don't own anything but the plot, and maybe not even that, so don't sue me!  I have nothing worth suing me for.

Bonds of Pain

Chapter 5

In which reports are made and bonds are cemented

"Green M&Ms,"  Severus growled at the gargoyle.  Foolish Muggles and their candies.  He was _itching_ to do something to those imbeciles who had been "caring" for the Potter boy.  Safe?  There?  Potter may have been safe from You-Know-Who, but there was no one to keep him safe from magic-hating Muggles who were supposed to be the boy's own flesh and blood.

"Albus?"  Severus peered into the office to find the headmaster stroking Fawkes.  The phoenix was trilling happily under the attention, and Dumbledore looked very satisfied.

"Ah, Severus.  You checked on Mr. Malfoy, I take it?"  The ancient man sat in a large chair by the fireplace and moved his friend and one-time student to sit in another chair opposite him.

"I did more than check on Draco.  I found him in a storeroom, beaten and covered in cuts.  He's had little food since he left here.  What he told me when I prepared to bring him here was far more important."  Severus took a deep breath.  Maybe this would turn out to be a good thing.  "He told me we had to retrieve Potter, and that the other boy was worse off than he was.  I retrieved his wand and freed him, and we Apparated to Privet Drive.  He went straight to Number Four, and I know for a fact that he did not previously know where Potter lived.  He led me there, to a cupboard under the stairs, and told me, in no uncertain terms, that Potter was there and I had to hurry to get him out.  The boy… he was almost gone, Albus."  There was a hitch in his throat, and the normally unflappable headmaster's forehead was wrinkled with a worry bordering on panic.  "I removed Potter and his belongings that had not been burned by the Dursleys.  As soon as we left the wards, I Portkeyed the three of us to the Hospital Wing.  Poppy is caring for the boys right now."

Dumbledore breathed a sigh of relief.  "Thank you, Severus.  It seems I should have listened to Minerva fourteen years ago.  She said he wouldn't be welcome there, and she was obviously right."  Albus stood up.  "I'd like to check on them and see what Poppy says, if you don't mind."

"Of course not."  In fact, Severus had hoped his mentor would want to do just that.  "Oh, Albus?"  he asked, half out of his seat.  He placed a hand on the old man's arm.  "Draco mentioned a mind-bond."  Watching the craggy face was like watching a candle being lit.  Severus Snape wondered why.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry woke slowly from a desperately needed, and thankfully peaceful, sleep.  He knew that he had come in late at night, and the sky visible through the windows, blurry as it was without his glasses, showed dark skies.  Where was he?

After a few minutes of thought, trying to decide where he was, he tried to move.  Dull, aching pain sliced through his body, and he groaned.  That hurt.  As he tried to look for his glasses, a familiar blur hove into view.

"Good, you're awake.  Don't try to speak.  Your larynx has suffered enough damage from dehydration and influenza.  You don't need to damage it further by trying to talk before it heals."  Oh, no.  He was in the infirmary again.  He wondered when Ron and Hermione would be in to see him again.  The matron moved out of sight, but she was back in a moment with a flask of bright purple liquid and a bowl of something brown.  "I want you to drink this potion and then as much of the broth as you can keep down.  You've been starved, and I may have to keep you here for the rest of the holiday to recover."

Harry obediently downed the foul-tasting potion and reached for his glasses as the pain subsided.  Now that he could see, he began to look around the ward for Draco, and a low moan to his left drew his immediate attention.  The blond seemed to be regaining consciousness.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

{Draco?}  He gasped as he woke to the pervasive pain.  His blue-grey eyes snapped open to meet bespectacled emerald eyes a few feet away.  He could almost feel the worry from the other boy.

~I'll be all right eventually, Harry.  You?~  He could feel the pain the other boy suffered from the bond, and it was diminishing.  It was still overwhelming to him, despite the decrease.  "Did you get anything for the pain?"  Harry nodded, staring at a bowl in his lap.

{She… she said I can't speak until my vocal cords heal.  She says I had the flu.}  Harry looked at him, tears brimming in those brilliantly green eyes.  {Until then, you're the only person I can talk to.}  Draco felt the anguish through the bond and the loneliness.  He had had no idea how the other boy had felt over the summer before, and now he knew why Harry was so volatile on the train back to London every year.  He obviously had no friends outside the school population.

"I'll be your voice, Harry.  I won't leave."  He crossed the few feet between the beds and wrapped the darker boy in a hug, something strange to both of them.  Harry's face was buried in his shoulder, and he felt the dampness through the hospital gown.  "It's all right to cry."  Draco had never been told any such thing, but it felt right, and tears streamed down his own face as he stroked his friend's raven locks.  How could anyone treat this gentle boy the way he had seen in his visions for three weeks?

They were still sitting like that, broth forgotten, when Madam Pomfrey looked in twenty minutes later.  Neither boy noticed her, and she quietly retreated to her office, where she could use her fire to call Dumbledore.  He would certainly want to see this.  She had never dreamed of seeing those two boys so close without fighting.

Why is Dumbledore so excited about the bond?  Will Harry get his voice back?  Will Draco ever understand why the Dursleys were beating  Harry?  Find out Wednesday on the next chapter of Bonds of Pain!  And while you're here, let me know what you think by clicking on the blue button!

Beth Weasley


	6. In which Draco tries on a Hat

A/N- Wow.  Procrastination.  I have a paper due tomorrow afternoon, and I'm putting this up at the last minute.  I'm bad.  Very bad.  Yeah.

Thanks go out to Diana Malfoy, Rei-Chan (a beta proofreads your story before you post it), Cerberis, Penny, and Nabiki, who all reviewed my last chapter.  You guys are so cool!

Disclaimer:  I own nothing but my ideas.  Anything you recognize isn't mine, so there.

Bonds of Pain

Chapter 6

In which Draco tries on a Hat

~Looks like I'll have to take care of both of them for the next month,~ Severus mused.  Draco and Harry had been in the Hospital Wing for four days, bullying, goofing off, and generally driving Poppy to distraction.  Potter might not be able to talk, but it seemed that Draco was talking for him.  The pair were a handful, and no one knew quite what to do with them.

The boys had insisted that their beds be moved as close to each other as possible, and Severus often saw them asleep, as now, almost spooned, with Draco throwing a protective arm over Harry's shoulder.  Odd how life worked out sometimes.  Dumbledore seemed delighted by the strengthening bond, and he had personally loaned the boys several dusty books on mind-bonds from his own private collection.  Confined to their beds at the beginning, the odd pair were devouring the information as their bodies steadily strengthened.

Harry had already moved up from broth to stew, bread, and mashed potatoes at each meal, and Draco was nearly back to normal fare.  His godson's appetite was at a normal level for a fifteen-year-old boy, but there were times when Potter had to be cajoled to eat more or sleep longer.  Sometimes there were odd silences where they would interact as if speaking in each others' minds (something Albus had said was possible), and they would suddenly burst into giggles or laughter.  After other silences, one might help the other with something, not an audible word passing between them.  Draco would often chatter away to his silent friend, brief silences coming after each comment as if Harry was answering.  The one-sided conversations were hard to follow, sometimes even impossible.

The changes in his godson were obvious to Severus.  Draco had become incredibly open, describing incidents to his friend that the Potions Master had never been told about.  Draco simply spilled his life before Harry to be judged.  The blond also defended his friend fiercely whenever the dark boy was threatened.  Strangest of all, however, was his blatant self-assurance.  Few told Poppy Pomfrey what to do, but Draco was willing and able to challenge her.

Within three weeks of their unexpected arrival, Severus Snape agreed with his young charges:  Draco Malfoy needed to be Resorted.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

~Are you sure you want to do this, Draco?~ Harry asked his friend.  Being Resorted was a huge step, rarely taken by anyone.

{I'm doing it, and that's that, Harry.  If I stay in Slytherin, I'll end up dead or under the Imperius.  I'd rather be in Hufflepuff.}  His mind flashed back to their very first conversation, just over four years ago in Diagon Alley.  Harry could see how important this change was for his blond friend.

His friend.  Five weeks ago, Harry would have recommended St. Mungo's to anyone suggesting that he'd be friends with Draco Malfoy.  Now he wasn't sure whether Ron Weasley or Draco was his best friend.

~I'm hoping the Hat will put you in Gryffindor with us,~ Harry thought, patting the paler boy's shoulder.  ~I don't know what I'd do without you if the term were to start before I got my voice back and you were in another House.~

{You'll survive, like you always do.  I hope I'll be there, though.}  He could feel Draco's nervousness through the bond as they walked towards Dumbledore's office.

"Starburst," Draco told the gargoyle calmly.  It slid aside at the new password, allowing them access to the tower office.  The headmaster was sitting behind his desk when the pair of boys came in.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Ah, there you are.  Please, both of you, sit down.  I believe the Hat would like a bit of time to chat with Draco."  As he and Harry sat in a pair of armchairs before the desk, Draco looked around.  He'd never been up here, unlike Harry.

There was the phoenix, Fawkes, dozing on its perch.  Several former headmasters were dozing in their frames overhead, and shelves lined the walls to head height.  They were covered with a multitude of books, occasionally interrupted by odd objects.  A carved stone bowl of some silvery liquid served as a bookend, a silver and ruby sword lay along a bare shelf, and a crystal ball spaced more books.

Dumbledore lifted the Sorting Hat from its home on the shelves and gently carried it towards Draco.  Fearing a repeat of his original Sorting, Draco leaned forward and allowed it to sink over his eyes.

[Ah, Draco Malfoy again.  I take it you're here for more than idle conversation.  Resorting, perhaps?]

~Er, yes.  I can't stay in Slytherin anymore.  Not only would they tear me apart, I don't think I'd fit in anymore.~

[I can see that.  Your ambition no longer comes first.  I never thought I'd see this in a Malfoy…]

~See what in a Malfoy?~  Before, the Hat had barely touched his head before coming to a decision.

[Courage, my dear boy.  You're overflowing with it.  Nothing comes between you and your friend anymore, and you won't let anything.  You're even willing to make peace with his friends.  I never thought I'd see the day a Malfoy was in…]  "Gryffindor."  The Hat spoke the last word aloud, not yelling as it would in the Great Hall in two weeks at the Sorting.

As Dumbledore lifted the Hat to return it to its dignified perch on the bookshelf, Draco looked at Harry.  The other boy's green eyes danced with joy, and the grin he bore only made them twinkle more.

{I can't wait until Ron hears.  D'you think he'll send a Howler?}  So that's what that twinkle really meant.  Mischief in the making.

"He probably will.  I'm just wondering how loud it'll be."  Harry chuckled, and Draco saw the headmaster trying to hide a similar smile.

"I imagine you boys would like to go to Diagon Alley to purchase your supplies for the term, then?"  Dumbledore asked.  Both of them nodded.  "You don't mind Severus accompanying you, do you?"  Blond and black hair shook in unison.  "I'll have him meet you in the infirmary, then."

As they left the office at a near run, Draco glimpsed a huge grin on the old man's face.

How will the shopping trip go?  What will the Gryffindors think of the new Draco?  Find out Friday on the next chapter!

Beth Weasley


	7. In which Gringotts is visited and salesw...

A/N-  Hey all!  Here's the next chapter.  Thanks go out to Rei-Chan, Diana Malfoy, Cerberis, and Ms. Padfoot.  Just to let you all know, this will remain mainly about Harry and Draco's friendship, but there will also be HP/GW, RW/HG, and DM/LB in here.  Just so you know.  *wink wink*

Bonds of Pain

Chapter 7

In which Gringotts is visited and saleswitches are shocked

When the boys came back to the Hospital Wing, the first thing Severus noticed was the smiles on their faces.  Huge and… genuine.  He had never expected to see a genuine smile on his godson's face.  The boys had their arms over each other's shoulders and were acting as if they had been friends forever, Harry clapping Draco on the back in a way that screamed "Well done!"  Draco spotted him, and the grin melted into a look of concern.

"You're not upset that I'm in Gryffindor now, are you, Uncle Sev?"  Harry mock-punched his friend, and a rare smile graced the Potions Master's face.

"Not at all, Draco.  It's where you belong now."  The pair exchanged glances, Harry's expression saying, "I told you so."

 Severus chuckled.  "Shall we go, then?"  He held out a pouch of Floo powder, and Draco took a large handful.

"We'll go at the same time, Harry."  He had to admit, the pair worked well together.  Unlike previous years, Severus was glad to see the two boys together.  The boys stepped through the green flames, and Severus threw in another pinch of Floo powder once the green flames had subsided.

"Diagon Alley," he stated, calmly stepping into the flames, which were emerald again.  Fireplaces whirled by, and Severus was deposited on the street full of wizards' shops, where Draco and Harry were brushing soot from the simple clothes Albus had transfigured for them.  On closer inspection, the outfits weren't really as good as the boys deserved, especially with what they had been through.  Severus smiled.  He knew just where to take the boys.

"After we're done here, why don't we go out into Muggle London and get some normal clothes for you both?" he suggested.  "I know a shop run by a classmate of mine that has some fairly popular designs.  It's even popular with Muggles."  The bright smiles and eager nods he received in reply were more than he could have hoped for.

"Could we, Uncle Sev?" Draco asked.  At his nod, the blond boy practically bounced with anticipation.  Six weeks had made a tremendous change in his godson, and he was finally acting like a fifteen-year-old boy.  Harry, too, was less uptight than before, now unafraid of making mistakes.

"Come on then, we need to get some money before we go shopping."  A hand on each boy's shoulder, Severus steered them towards Gringotts.

Hogwarts alumni who had learned under the imposing Potions Master and saw him in Diagon Alley that afternoon were shocked to see the expression on his face.  Severus Snape was, for once, pleasantly happy, and he was smiling.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Umm, Uncle Sev?" Harry heard Draco whisper.  He tuned out to give his friend some privacy and looked instead at the display in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies.  His Firebolt was obviously still state-of-the-art in brooms.

Wait.  Draco had refused the Dark Mark, so his father had probably taken away his key to the Malfoy vault.  Then again, the Malfoys had been arrested shortly after Draco had left their "care," and he could have sworn he'd seen an article about their trial in the _Daily Prophet_.  Harry looked at the other boy and saw the worry on his face.

~Hey, if you feel guilty about having money from Lucius hurting others, we could help the Weasleys out and have the goblins put some in their vault from each of ours…  Besides, I have more than I could ever use, and I don't exactly plan on sitting on my arse after I graduate.~  Draco got a considering look on his face before smiling broadly at Harry.

"Brilliant.  You know they don't want charity, though…"  Harry shook his head at the doubt in the blond's voice.

~So?  They'll never know where it came from.  I'm giving them some money, whether they like it or not.~

"You're too much, Harry.  Honestly, you'd let people walk all over you if you didn't have friends to stick up for you."  At this, Harry smiled sheepishly.

~I was raised humble, that's all.~  Draco snorted and looked up at Snape.

"He says he was raised humble, Uncle Sev.  I say we show him how normal wizards live next summer."  His friend had that scheming look on his face again.  It had shown up when Harry first wrote Ron about the bond and their new friendship.  They had gotten a Howler in return that seemed to be from all the Weasleys.  At least six different voices had shouted at them for a good ten minutes, and it had been incredibly funny, despite the fact that the noise had shaken the windows throughout the Hospital Wing.

"If he can beat You-Know-Who so I can _be_ normal next summer," the professor muttered, winking at Harry to signal that he was joking.  Professor Snape, joking.  Harry wasn't sure, but he thought Hell might have just frozen over.

"Say the name!"  Draco hissed as Harry thought the exact same thing.  Snape held up his hands in surrender.

"I know, I know.  'Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.'"

The trip into the belly of Gringotts was as nerve-wracking as ever, the trio going first to Snape's vault, then Harry's.  Harry tried to make sure he got mostly Galleons, and a pile collapsed onto his feet when he took a handful of gold.  Strangely, the pile didn't collapse all the way but revealed the corner of a wooden crate.

~Hey Draco, could you help me get this out?  It looks heavy.~  In response, his friend came over and began pulling at the box beside him.  They could hear the coins on the other side of the pile begin to fall as the box shifted.  Another heave brought it flying out from under the gold, which collapsed as the boys fell under the weight of the crate.

{Why don't we wait until we get back to the castle to open it?  I think Uncle Sev wants to get the shopping done.}  Draco glanced at the professor, and Harry agreed.  {Your parents probably left some of their stuff in here for you.}  Harry nodded and finished filling his moneybag before they lifted the crate to remove it from the vault.

Professor Snape merely raised a perplexed eyebrow at them as they heaved the crate into the cart.  With a curt flick, he shrank the box to the size of a matchbox and handed it back to Harry.  Harry gave a small smile and tried to speak for the first time in three weeks.

"Thank you," he rasped, his throat feeling like it was lined with sandpaper.  At least it wasn't daggers anymore.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco was laughing as they entered Madam Malkin's shop.  His grey eyes were twinkling with a smile, and he winked at his friend as the saleswitch came up to them.

"One set each of Gryffindor and Slytherin for the term, boys?" she asked.  Harry tried to keep from laughing as Draco drew himself up haughtily.

"No," Draco said, "two sets of Gryffindor robes, please."  He snickered at the confusion on the witch's face, and Harry started to laugh.  "I'm not a Malfoy anymore.  I'm finally myself."  The witch, even more confused now, just shook her head.

"All right then…"  She stalked off for some robes, and Harry grinned at Draco.

{The look on her face…  That was priceless, Draco!}  The dark-haired boy's laughter was infectious, and Draco chuckled as well.

~You know, we're ruining my reputation as a complete ass.~  Draco smirked as Harry nearly bounced off his stool.  The witch, who was trying to adjust the hem of Harry's new robes, scolded the other boy, and Draco tried to keep his laughter quiet enough to be classed as a chuckle.

{Personally, I think it's a reputation that you need to lose.  I mean; Ron doesn't believe a word I tell him about the bad-boy Draco being a façade.  You've seen the letters he owls back to me.}

~Yeah, I have.~  Draco scowled, remembering the small ball of feathers that had assaulted him several times.  ~Who gave him that damned owl, anyway?~

{Sirius did.  He sent my Hogsmeade permission slip with it after third year, and he said Ron could keep it since he'd lost his rat because of Sirius.}  Draco nodded at that.  Harry had told him all about what had happened to him for the past four years while they were stuck in the infirmary.  He knew now that Sirius was innocent and that Peter Pettigrew had betrayed Harry's parents.  The cowardly man had hidden as the Weasleys' pet rat, Scabbers, for twelve years before his former friend had gotten out of Azkaban.

Of course, Harry had also written his godfather to tell him of their bond and the changes in Draco's world-view.  Sirius had wanted to send a Howler, but he was still in hiding and had to stick with a regular letter.  He had come around when Draco wrote himself, but Ron had told Harry that he'd burned a similar missive from Draco without even reading it.  Draco had also written his Aunt Rita, but the journalist had not yet written back.  Maybe she was having a hard time getting used to the idea that her nephew and godson was friends with her favourite target.

~I hope Ron doesn't try to attack me on the train.~  Dumbledore had insisted that they catch the train on September First, despite Draco's misgivings over security aboard the train and on the tracks between King's Cross and the school.

Harry snorted.  {He tries it, and I'll slug him, best friend or not.}

~Really?  Thanks.~  Draco was surprised.  Ron and Harry had four years of being best friends behind them, and Harry would defend him first?  And against his own best friend, too.  Wow.

{Ah, Ron's such a dense prat sometimes.  He actually thought I put my name in for that whole thing last year.}  This time it was Draco's turn to snort.  He'd tried to put his own name in the goblet, and he'd been unsuccessful.  Even the Weasley twins had tried to get past the age line, and they'd sported tremendous beards after the effort, without getting their names in.  How could Harry have gotten his name in?

{He doesn't realize that he likes Hermione, either.  He's thicker than a cauldron bottom.}  Draco blinked in surprise.

~He doesn't?  Even _I_ know they like each other.  You're right, he _is_ dense.~

As soon as the saleswitch finished, the boys got Professor Snape to shrink their bags before they headed off to the next shop.

What's this store Sev knows so much about?  Who is his classmate?  What is in the crate?  Will Ron stop being so dense?  Find out Sunday on the next chapter!

Please click the little button and review!

Beth Weasley


	8. In which they visit a Slytherin in Muggl...

Bonds of Pain

Chapter 8

In which they visit a Slytherin in Muggle London

Severus watched as his godson and Potter practically rampaged through Diagon Alley.  They had both mad drastic changes over the past three weeks.  Both were cheery and active, and they were obvious friends.  They spent little time apart, and they were taking more interest in life.

As the boys finished their school shopping, Severus led them through the Leaky Cauldron.  He stopped to hang up is robes in the cloakroom before they left.  When Harry's jaw dropped, he looked at his clothes and grinned.

"Yes, Potter, I do wear Muggle clothes from time to time."  His shirt was Slytherin green with silver writing proclaiming, "Keep staring, and I might do a trick."  His baggy black denim trousers were stitched in silver, and he looked every inch the casual Slytherin.

"Cool outfit, Uncle Sev," Draco commented, nudging his friend.  Potter picked up his jaw from the floor as Severus chuckled.

"'I Carry a Wand' has a lot of merchandise in House colours.  I have to admit, Wendolyn has quite a head for business."  Harry looked at Draco, who spoke for the other boy.

"That's a really obvious name for a store frequented by Muggles.  Don't any of them suspect?"  Severus smiled wryly and shook his head.

"Actually, it attracts the sort of Muggles that want to believe in magic anyway.  If any of them see a wand, they figure you're one of them."  He pointed to his own wand, poking from a long pocket on his left hip.  Harry looked very interested.

Smiling at the boys, Severus strode from the Leaky Cauldron, stuffing his moneybag into a pocket he'd enchanted.  He tended to keep a bit of Muggle money in with the rest of the money, and he'd made sure each boy had gotten a decent amount of Muggle money before they'd left Gringotts as well. As the boys followed him into the Muggle world, they discussed several "normal" subjects.  Well, Draco discussed them.  Potter would make appropriate noises, but he didn't speak.

Severus knew Potter's vocal chords had been damaged at the hands of Vernon Dursley.  The simple "Thank you" he'd received in the bank had sounded like stones grating.  That _had_ to hurt.  He actually felt sorry for the boy, despite his hatred of James.  So he looked like James and often acted like the idiot his father had been.  He saw now that the boy wasn't his father, and never would be.  He was going to try to go a bit easier on Potter now that he knew how the boy had grown up.  Humble, indeed.  It was a wonder his spirit hadn't been crushed.

The Dursleys had been arrested the day after he had rescued Potter, and they had been tried one week later, just before the boy's birthday.  Poppy, always the consummate mediwitch, had taken photos of both boys' injuries before she had treated them.  The pictures of Potter had been used in the trial, and each of those awful Muggles had received a year in Azkaban.  Potter had shuddered when he'd heard the news.  They would never take "care" of the boy again, due to their negligence and abuse.

When "I Carry a Wand" came into sight, Severus lengthened his strides.  Harry spotted the sign and called Draco's attention to it.  The paler boy responded with a whoop and a sudden sprint for the door.  Potter was close on his heels.

When Severus entered more sedately, the first person he saw was a very shocked Wendolyn Altair.  She missed his entrance entirely, and he poked his old classmate's shoulder.  She blinked and looked at him.

"Sev!  Is that Draco Malfoy?"  She waved a hand towards his godson, who was chattering away at Harry and looking at shirts.  Severus chuckled.

"Aye.  And the other one's Harry Potter."  He was doing his best not to laugh at his Housemate.

"No…   Really?"  She looked at him, completely amazed.  "I thought you  said they hated each other!  Wait, didn't Lucius get taken in a few weeks ago for being a Death Eater?"  At Severus' nod, she frowned.  "His own boy turned him in?"

"Anonymously after being tortured for three weeks because he wouldn't take the Dark Mark."  Wendolyn blanched at the statement.

"You know, now I don't blame him.  Why's Potter with you, though?"

"Didn't you hear about the Dursleys being tried two weeks ago?"

"_Oh_.  So they were in charge of him?  I didn't connect that to the Boy Who Lived…"  Wen shrugged.  "Not that the papers said who it was they'd abused so badly."

Severus mirrored her shrug.  "I wouldn't treat him as if he were famous, if I were you.  Evidently, he hates the treatment.  Didn't even know anything about his parents or being a wizard until he was eleven.  The damned Muggles wouldn't even let him have his Hogwarts acceptance letter."  Wen looked scandalized as Severus elaborated.  "Dumbledore had to send Hagrid to take him to get his school supplies for his first year."

"Geez…"  Wen frowned.  "I see why they got the time they did, then."

Severus nodded and turned his attention to the boys.  Potter was holding up a bright blue tee and chuckling.  The front read, "I love Quidditch!"  When Harry flipped the shirt around, Snape stifled a laugh.  "I think it's because the Bludgers hit on me."  That had to be for the Weasley boy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry had the Bludgers shirt tucked under his arm and was browsing more shirts, looking for himself, when Draco tossed a tee at him.  It landed on his head, and he pulled it off to look at the legend.  "I love to catch the Snitch" was flanked by a broom and a fluttering Snitch.

{Get it?}  Draco asked.  {Catch the Snitch?}  A lewd suggestion floated across the bond, and Harry doubled over in silent laughter.

~That's _bad_,~  he laughed, throwing the emerald tee back at his friend.  The other boy ducked before folding his "find" and putting it back on the shelf.

{Not as bad as some slogans I've seen.}  Draco wore a disgusted look on his face.

~Then I don't want to know.~  Harry pulled out a green shirt with long sleeves to look at its slogan.  "Don't squish the Seeker!"  Harry smiled and held it up for Draco to see.  ~Think I should get this one with a red and gold stripe beneath the writing?~

Draco smirked back.  {Maybe two or three.  It might keep the girls off you come September.  Wouldn't want the House Seeker and my best friend flatter than a hotcake.}

~Thanks,~  Harry thought back wryly.  ~But why would the girls be on me, anyway?~  Draco's look was incredulous.

{Haven't you looked in a mirror lately?  Or behind you at all today?  The only reason you weren't mobbed in Diagon Alley today was because of Uncle Sev and I.}

~Say what?~  Girls?  Following him?  What could they want from him?  Sure, he was famous, but he wasn't that recognizable without spotting his scar.  Draco walked him around a rack of trousers and pushed Harry in front of a full-length mirror.

"Think like a girl for a minute, my friend.  Is that not one of the most adorably handsome specimens of the male teenage human you have ever seen?"  Harry blinked at the strange boy in the mirror.  He was sort of tall, with striking green eyes and unruly black hair.  Wait.  Was that _him_?  "Come on, Harry.  You're not the scrawny, pale boy you've been for four years.  Hell, even the old me wouldn't mess with you now.  And he was an arrogant bastard.  You're a different person now, and the girls—and guys that play for that team—are starting to notice."  Now that he noticed, he _had_ filled out quite a bit and gotten some sun over the past three weeks.

~Eurgh.  Great.  I'm going to be swarmed.  Thanks for warning me, mate.~  How was he going to deal with this?

{Hey, I'll be there to help fend them off.}

~Maybe you should try out for the Gryffindor team.  We're going to need practically a whole new team next year, and we need a Keeper this year.~  Harry slumped, thinking about how hard they'd have to work to keep Slytherin from beating them.  Then he spotted Draco's grin over his shoulder.

{I play best as a Chaser.  But I'm not going to use one of the brooms Lucius used to buy my Seeker position.  The dirty Slyths can have them.}  Harry smirked at this.  He had an idea.

~Er, Draco, when's your birthday?~

{Promise you won't laugh?}

~I'll try not to.~

{February fourteenth.}  Draco scowled.  {I'm five and a half months older than you.}

Harry's eyes went wide.  ~No wonder you're always in a foul mood on Valentine's Day.  I guess you don't particularly like your birthday, either.~

{Nah.  I never had a real party because it was always very formal, and the guests were there for political reasons.  To nick a phrase from the Yankees, it sucked.}  Harry nodded sympathetically and wove his way towards the counter, where Snape was talking to the witch running the store.

"Need something, lad?" the witch asked.  Harry nodded and mimed writing.  Snape, used to the gesture, understood.

"He needs something to write you a message on, because Pomfrey's forbidden him to talk."  Snape shot him a puzzled look as the witch rummaged under the counter, her wand sticking up form a back pocket.

"Here ye go, lad," she said as she straightened, sliding a blank sheet of paper and a ballpoint pen towards him.  He bent over the paper and began to write in his usual scrawl.

Can I get this shirt with a gold and red stripe beneath the slogan?  I am Gryffindor's Seeker, after all.

The witch peered at the near-scribble, and Snape rolled his eyes.

"Really, Potter, you need to print.  You know no one else can decipher that scrawl."  The professor turned to the witch.  "He wants to know if he can get this shirt with a red and gold stripe where the slogan is, because he's Seeker for Gryffindor, but I imagine he would like the rest of the shirt to stay green, as it is his best colour."

Harry nodded before crouching over the paper again, his tongue sticking out in concentration as he tried to print legibly.

Don't say anything about this next bit…

Harry looked up, and the witch mimed zipping her mouth shut.

I want to get Draco a Firebolt as a belated birthday present for the last four years.

Snape nodded in understanding.  He obviously hadn't seen the note Harry had handed to the goblin in the bank earlier.  "You're a different lad than I'd thought, Potter.  I'm sorry."

The witch gaped and muttered to Harry.  "Never thought I'd see the day Sev apologised to anyone, let alone a Gryff."  Snape glared at her—his first real glare of the day—and she winced.

"We'll help, Harry."  Snape put a hand on Harry's shoulder as the witch quietly burned the sheet of paper.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

~What can they be up to?~ Draco wondered.  Not that he really was nosey, but it didn't take that long to ask about a little change in shirt colour.

"Sure thing, lad.  Won't take a second," the witch said.  She took the shirt through a door and was back shortly, the shirt just as Harry probably wanted it.

{You were right, Draco,}  Harry told him as he looked at the shirt.  {It does look pretty good this way.}  The broad red stripe under the slogan had been outlined in thinner gold bands, and the slogan had been printed in gold as well.

Draco snorted.  ~Pretty good?  More like really good.  Keep looking, mate.  You have a whole wardrobe to stock.~  Harry got a pained look on his face before replying.

{I just… I've never had decent clothes outside of my uniform.  I'm overwhelmed.}  Draco put a hand on Harry's arm.  He didn't know it had been that bad.

~Want me to help?~  He was relieved when Harry nodded.

{The only clothes I ever got from the Dursleys were cast-offs from Dudley, and he's always been huge.  The only other regular clothes I had were Mrs. Weasley's jumpers, and they burned them when I came back.  Along with nearly everything else I owned.}

~Oh.~  Draco now understood something else.  ~That's why they sent you so many for your birthday.~  Harry's package from the Weasleys had contained enough comfortable knit jumpers to last him all winter, and Draco had gotten a box full himself.  Evidently, Mrs. Weasley was a very forgiving person.

Harry nodded again, looking at a rack of denim trousers.  {She works so hard on them, it's like each one is a piece of her heart.}

Draco chuckled.  ~I guess I'll start getting an original Weasley jumper every Christmas as well, then.  I wonder what colour she'll choose for me.~  Harry grinned at him.

{For you?  Probably a dark blue-grey.  The only person she's ever missed on to my knowledge is Ron.}  One green eye winked at him.  {I owled her and told her to try bright blue for his next jumper.}

~Let me guess.  She keeps putting him in maroon.~  Draco vaguely remembered the horrible dress robes from the Yule Ball, and shuddered.

{Got it in one, mate.  Every year, and it washes him out.}

~Bright colours would probably work much better on him.~  Even he had seen that.

Harry pulled out a pair of dark blue trousers and held them up against himself to see if they would fit.  Draco rolled his eyes and pushed him in the direction of the changing stall.

~Go in there and try them on, for God's sake,~ he said, and Harry obediently ducked inside.  He was back out in just a minute, and Draco nearly fell over laughing.  The cuffs were halfway between his friend's ankles and knees.

{Not gonna work, mate.  I need something longer.}

~What size are those?~

{Just a sec.}  Harry went back inside, and the denims were soon thrown over the curtain.  Draco caught them deftly and checked the tag.

~You have some long legs, mate,~ he thought to his friend as he searched the racks for something longer.  He soon found a pair that might work better and handed them through the curtain.

{Much better,} Harry said just before he emerged.  The bottom hems bunched a bit around his shoes, and they fit well overall.  

~Definitely.  Comfortable?~

{Quite.  And they're long enough I can grow another couple of inches and they'll still fit.}  Harry beamed, and Draco grinned back.

~Wicked.  Let's keep looking.~

It took them a while, but once they had started, there was no stopping them.  The pair eventually accumulated two large piles of clothing on the sales counter, and the witch leaned over to look at Draco.

"You lads act like you're building two completely new wardrobes."  She looked a bit puzzled, and Draco grinned.

"We are."  He chuckled, and the witch looked scandalized.  "Hey, Professor Dumbledore had to transfigure some hospital gowns for these," he continued, pulling at the plain shirt he'd worn all day.

"H-how?  Why wouldn't you wear the clothing your father bought?

"What father?" Draco growled.  "I don't consider Lucius Malfoy as my Father.  And I certainly won't wear anything he bought for me."  He could see things beginning to connect in her head.

"I'm sorry, lad.  Didn't mean to bring up a sore subject.  Wendolyn Altair."  She offered her hand.  "Call me Wen."

"Nice to meet you."  Draco shook her hand.  He might be seeing her a lot in the future, considering the way his godfather was looking at the woman.

How will Harry's friends and the other Gryffindors react to Harry's new look?  What is in the crate?  Find out on Tuesday's chapter!

Beth Weasley


	9. In which Marauder products return to Gry...

A/N-  Whoops.  I meant to post this around midnight, but I fell asleep.  Thanks go out to paperdoll, Rei-Chan, blondel (Wow! Huge review!  Thank you so much!), and Ms. Padfoot.  I really enjoy reviews, so hit the purple button when you're done!

Disclaimer:  Do I look like J. K. Rowling?  Didn't think so.  That means I don't own anything you recognize.

Bonds of Pain

Chapter 9

In which Marauder products return to Gryffindor Tower

Whether they admitted it to themselves or not, Severus knew the boys were tired from their day of shopping.  They had Flooed to the headmaster's office, where a brief meeting had taken place.  The boys were told they could spend the rest of the holiday in Gryffindor Tower, and that permanent summer arrangements would be made in the spring.  Mention was made of Lupin being in the castle for some reason Dumbledore would not tell, and the werewolf was supposedly bringing a dog with him.  Oh well.  So he would have to make the Wolfsbane Potion every month for another year.  At least he wouldn't have to take over class for Lupin during the full moon.  Dumbledore did want an anti-aging potion ready for the new Defence professor when he or she arrived, however.

Severus was faintly surprised that neither Draco nor Potter was a prefect, though, as they didn't seem to mind, he didn't press the subject.  Instead, he followed Potter to Gryffindor Tower to deliver their new belongings and unshrink them in their rooms.  Once they had climbed through the portrait hole, he was surprised to see how cosy the strange common room was.  For a few moments, he just stared.

"Uncle Sev?  Earth to Uncle Sev…"  He almost jumped as Draco poked him.  "Harry's going to take us up to the dorm.  You went off into Never-never Land.  Come on."  Severus nodded and followed the pair up a few flights of stairs to a door bearing a sign that read, "Fifth-Year Boys."

The dorm room was just as comfortable as the common room below, with five huge four-poster beds and accompanying wardrobes and nightstands.  ~Blast.  Now Gryffindor has the most fifth-years of all the Houses…~  Keeping the thought to himself, Severus began to empty his pockets, starting with Potter's crate and the new trunks.  Once everything was back to its original size, he took his leave and headed for the infirmary.  Hopefully Poppy had one of his headache brews right to hand.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry had decided that he was going to put his new belongings away before investigating the box from Gringotts.  He was nervous about opening it.  What if it was just a bunch of rubbish?

{Delaying won't make it go away, you know.}  Harry looked at his friend and then looked down.  He had been organising his Potions ingredients, something he'd never done before in his life.  Snape would be proud.

~All right, so I was stalling.~  He looked at Draco, worried.  ~But what if it's all rubbish?  What if there's nothing important in it?~

Draco snorted.  {If it was rubbish, it wouldn't have been in the vault in the first place.  Go on, open it.}

A frown on his face, Harry inspected the crate by feel.  As he ran his fingers along the top, it felt… odd.  As if it weren't really rough, unfinished wood, as it appeared to be.  More like the leather over wood of a trunk…

~_Finite Incantatem_,~ he thought firmly, tapping the object with his wand.  The wood shimmered before morphing into a trunk covered in deep russet leather.  A brass plate on the lid bore a few letters.

                        J. P.

                          +

                      L. E. P.

Now eager to see what was inside, Harry flipped open the latches and raised the lid.  Inside, he could see several books and a few smaller boxes.  A wizarding picture and a note sat on the very top.  His parents waved from the picture, Lily bouncing a baby Harry on her hip.

"You were supposedly an absolutely adorable baby, Potter," Draco murmured over his shoulder.  His friend sounded a bit jealous.  "You certainly look it."  Harry smiled sadly and began to read the letter.

_Dearest Harry,_

**Wait, he's Prongs, Jr.**

_James, stop it. _** Yes, dear. **_ Harry, if you're reading this, your father and I are probably dead. _** Great loss to the wizarding world, I hope. **_ We are about to go under the Fidelius Charm with Peter Pettigrew as our Secret-Keeper, and we decided to leave you some important items in case we don't make it.  I don't quite trust Peter for some reason. _** Oh shush, Lily.  I trust him. **_ Exactly, James. _** I hope we do make it, however.  Can't imagine what Petunia would do to you if we didn't. **_ Or Sirius. _** He's not as bad as your sister. **_ I know. _** Anyway, Harry, what your mum is trying to say is that we will always love you and be watching over you, even if it's not in the flesh. **_Stay safe, and don't get into too much trouble with this stuff.  I'm sure your father has a great deal of Marauder things in here. _** Hey, he's a Potter.  Have to uphold the family name and all. **_ Sure, James._

_                                                            We love you dearly._

**James Potter & **_Lily Evans Potter_

Harry sniffed and handed the letter to Draco before he stared looking at the books.  None had titles on the outside, just decorative work, so Harry opened the first to the title page.

_Five Hundred Subtle Hexes for Getting Rid of Annoying People_, by Messrs. Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs.  A note lower on the page was in his father's handwriting.

            **Wormtail was just a guinea pig, so he doesn't get credit for this one.**

Harry chuckled.  This might come in handy for getting rid of the Creevey boys.

The next book, bound in blue with slivery scrollwork, was even better.  _The Marauders' Guide to Becoming an Animagus_, by Messrs. Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.

            **Since Moony isn't an Animagus, he couldn't help.**

~You know, this one is going to be really handy,~ Harry thought to Draco.  ~Do we want to go ahead and start, or wait for Ron and Hermione?~

Draco frowned, flipping to the introduction of the book.  "It says that the larger your support group, the better off you are.  I think we should wait."  Harry nodded in reply and opened another book.

_Enchanting Objects_ was the third book in the trunk, and it was soon followed by _The Prank Encyclopaedia_ and _Sneaking Around: Tips for Pranksters_.  He'd have to make sure the Weasley twins didn't get these, or else they'd be royal terrors.

Underneath the books was a simple cardboard box.  Inside, Harry found some rather embarrassing mementos of his infancy.  Baby shoes, bath pictures…  He could feel himself turning red.  _That_ wasn't going anywhere.  A second box held pictures of his parents, Sirius, and Remus.  In most of the pictures, Peter was conspicuously absent, and where he was present, he looked terrified of the others, who were often giving him dirty looks.  Perhaps they had figured out that he had betrayed them.  Then Harry spotted another short letter.

_Harry,_

_If you get this, show it to Professor Dumbledore and ask him for the rest of our belongings.  If we are attacked, he will have them._

_                                                Love from Mum_

_I guess that's why he had the Invisibility Cloak my first year,_ Harry mused.  ~I'll get the rest of their things from the headmaster tomorrow.~  Draco nodded as Harry pulled out another box.

This, however, was more of a chest than a box.  Its wood was polished to a high sheen, and an inlaid dog and wolf on the lid wagged their tails at him.  When he lifted the lid, soft music began to play in a hauntingly familiar tune.  A mirror was set in the lid, and red velvet lined the compartments inside and protected several pieces of jewellery.  Another note lay on the top of the dividers.

Harry- 

_You don't have to keep my jewellery to yourself.  I know it's rather girly for a boy.  In fact, if you meet **the **girl, don't hesitate to let her wear any of my jewels.  The only thing I really want you to keep is the silver locket.  You'll understand why.  By the way, our engagement rings are probably in Dumbledore's possession.  They are promise rings that have been passed down through James' family for many generations.  Dumbledore can tell you more about them._

_Mum_

~Um, Draco?  What are promise rings?~ he asked, handing the note to his friend.  The silvery-blue eyes widened as the note was read, and Draco looked surprised.

"They're magic, soul-magic.  I've heard they even work on Muggles.  Usually, a family will pass them to the oldest unwed male when the bearers die.  Basically, if you carry a pair around and look into your soul-mate's eyes, the rings will magically place themselves on your fingers.  One on your wedding finger, and the other on your soul-mate's wedding finger.  They're very rare, and they only come off when one of the bearers dies."

~Wow.  Dumbledore has Mum and Dad's promise rings, then.~  He was curious about his mum's locket, but he was going to leave it for later and look at the few boxes that were left.

The next box's contents were obviously his dad's.  A pocket watch held down a note on the top.

Harry- 

**If you get this, beat Peter to a bloody pulp for me.  After all we did for him, if he betrays us, as Lily suspects he will, he deserves anything anyone could dish out to him.  Anyway, you can have more hands added to the watch for your friends at any decent jeweller's, and they can also remove hands.  Keep Sirius and Remus from killing Snape; he may be a greasy git, but he's on our side.  I know you're a born flyer, so win the Quidditch Cup a few times while you're in school.  Make me proud, son.**

**                                                Dad**

~you know, I think these notes might actually be enough proof to get Sirius cleared if we can find someone who will publicize them…~ Harry mused.  Draco nodded.

"Absolutely.  They'll probably want to run some tests to prove your parents wrote them, but the tests wouldn't hurt the letters.  Once Sirius is cleared, you'll have somewhere decent to go for the summer hols instead of those ruddy Muggles."  Draco patted his shoulder, and Harry felt a lot better.  He smiled and returned to looking through the remaining boxes, finding more of his father's keepsakes and one box full of pictures of Quidditch games where his father streaked by in red robes, tossing the Quaffle to his team-mates and trying to score.  Oddly, one of the red-robed Beaters looked somewhat like Sirius.

A wooden box in the very bottom of the trunk rattled as Harry uncovered it, and he gasped when he pulled it out.  Not only was it the heaviest box in the trunk, but it looked a lot like the chest for the school's Quidditch balls, though the crest was very different and the name "Potter" was engraved below it instead of "Hogwarts."  Inside, the Bludgers strained at their bonds with the Quaffle nestled between them.  All three were clearly emblazoned with his surname.  Several dials stood out on the inside of the chest, but Harry took no notice of them as he popped open the compartment where the Snitch resided.  He caught the walnut-sized ball before it could go anywhere, and it too was engraved with his surname.

"Oi, there an instruction manual in here,"  Draco crowed, grabbing said manual and looking through it.  "No wonder your dad was so good.  He had his own practise set."  The comment cleared Harry's confusion, but it was getting late.  He yawned and put the Snitch away, pulling the manual out of Draco's hands before closing up the set and putting everything back in the trunk.

~Would you help me move this over next to my wardrobe?  I don't know where else to put it for now.~  The two boys pushed the wine-coloured trunk into place, and Harry pulled some boxers from his wardrobe before heading to the loo.  ~Definitely time for sleep.~

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco woke suddenly as Harry began to scream form the next bed over.  As he had been doing for three weeks, he quickly moved from his own bed to his friend's to comfort him.  The other boy was thrashing wildly, his scar red and almost pulsing.

"Hey, hey, Harry, I'm here," Draco murmured, grabbing an arm and holding the darker boy firmly against the spasms.  "It's not your fault, mate.  You didn't make it happen."  The pale boy held his friend tightly as the nightmare ended and Harry broke into fresh tears over Cedric Diggory's death.

For half an hour, they sat on Harry's bed, Draco soothing and crooning as the raven-haired boy cried himself out.  An idea came to Draco, and he looked at Harry thoughtfully.

"Why don't you write Cho Chang?" he asked.  "I know you feel a lot of guilt for taking Cedric from her, and I don't think she blames you."

{R-really?}  Harry looked up at him, a tiny ray of hope shining through the despair.  When Draco nodded, Harry reached over to the nightstand for parchment and quill.  As he scribbled his message, Draco looked on.

_Why does he have to suffer these things?_ Draco thought.  _He's still a boy.  Hell, we're both still boys.  We shouldn't have to be dealing with the deaths of fellow students._  It was all Voldemort's fault.  ~We'll get that ruddy bastard someday, mate.  We'll make him pay for Cedric.~  Harry seemed reassured as he sent the missive off with his owl.

"Feel better now, mate?" he asked.  Harry nodded, and he responded with a smile.  "Good.  Let's get back to sleep, then."  Draco knew that Harry always had problems getting back to sleep after either a nightmare or one of his rarer visions, and physical contact always helped the other boy return to the land of slumber.  Not that Draco swung that way.  He was only trying to help his friend.

What do the Death Eaters have to say about Severus rescuing the boys?  Where is Draco's Aunt Rita?  Who is Aunt Rita, for that matter?  What does Cho say about Harry's guilt over Cedric's death?  Find out in Thursday's chapter!

Beth Weasley


	10. In which students return to Hogwarts

A/N-  Hey!  I'm back!  Here's the next chapter.  I'd like to thank all my reviewers for last chapter: Ms. Padfoot, Endora, monkee-maimer, MusicalHermione, ShortySC22, blondel, Rei-Chan, Lokia (Sorry, but Cho's not going to appear much in here.  I'm not really that fond of that pairing.), Hrei-siesn (I've already written quite a bit of the story, I'm just doling it out bit by bit), and totaloser.  You guys make me so happy!

Bonds of Pain

Chapter 10

In which students return to Hogwarts

Severus was not looking forward to the arrival of the students that evening.  Those of his Slytherins who had Death Eater parents would do everything they could to make his life miserable.  Because he had rescued Draco from Lucius' treatment, he had been ostracized among the Death Eaters to the point where he could no longer give Albus any information worth risking his life.  Albus had demanded that he stop attending meetings, and he had spent several nights in the Hospital Wing under Poppy's heaviest pain and sleeping draughts.

He felt useless.  He felt guilty.  He wanted to help the cause, the Order, in some way, but he couldn't hide among the Death Eaters as a spy anymore.  He said as much to Albus, and the older man gave him the sly grin that made Severus so uneasy.

"You could help with Hagrid's tutoring."  Snape stared at his mentor.  "Don't give me that look, Severus.  You know he couldn't have controlled the basilisk.  He couldn't have caused the attacks when he was expelled, and he was out of the castle part of the time when they were occurring three years ago.  I have concrete evidence that it was Tom Riddle acting both times, and Hagrid has been exonerated.  He would appreciate help from everyone."  Severus sighed, caving to the headmaster.

"All right then.  Does he need a new wand and books?"  At Albus' nod, he slumped.  He was going to have to take Hagrid to Diagon Alley, and it was going to be embarrassing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry was grinning widely.  Madam Pomfrey had finally cleared him to talk again, just in time for the start of term.  He and Draco were about to Floo to Platform 9 ¾ to meet Hermione and the Weasleys for the train ride to school, and he could hardly wait to see the rest of his friends.

"Ready, mate?" Draco asked, and Harry nodded as he took a pinch of the headmaster's Floo powder.  He winked at Draco before throwing the powder into the flames before him.

"Platform 9 ¾!" he crowed, stepping into the emerald flames.  He held on to his glasses as he spun through the network.  On the other end, he managed to keep from falling and stood to one side of the fireplace to dust himself off.  He was wearing his "Don't squish the Seeker" shirt and denim trousers, and Draco had warned him to keep an eye out and avoid large groups of girls.

Draco Came through the fire just a few seconds later, and Harry helped his pale friend clean up.  After a few minutes, Harry spotted a swarm of red hair in the growing crowd.  Draco close behind him, Harry made his way over to the group, where he was immediately hugged by Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, Harry, you look so good!" she exclaimed, holding him out at arm's length.  "You're getting to be very handsome!"  He could feel his ears heating and a blush creeping across his cheeks.

"Um… Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," he murmured.  Draco chose this moment to butt in.

"He's having to keep a wary eye on the girls," the blond commented, mischief written all over his face.  "He almost got mobbed when we went shopping a couple weeks ago."  The twins sniggered, and Ron's eyebrows disappeared under his bangs.  Hermione and Ginny dissolved in giggles.

"And then he found this shirt," Harry continued, jerking a thumb at Draco, "and suggested I get three."  Ron looked at the slogan, and his mouth twitched towards a smile.  ~Coup de grace is yours, Draco.~

"Don't want our House Seeker flattened, you know."  Draco beamed at the group.  Ron's shoulders shook and he began to chuckle.  Hermione and Ginny looked at each other, then at Harry and Draco, before smirking.

{Looks like it worked.}  Draco smiled at him, and Harry felt like his grin was about to split his face open.

"So, Harry, who do you think is the boys' prefect for our year?" Ron asked.  Fred and George groaned.  Apparently they had heard this several times.

"Let's see.  It's not me, Draco just joined us, Dean and Seamus get into worse trouble than we do, and Neville's grades are simply abysmal, so it has to be you."

Ron pouted.  "Spoilsport.  Wait.  You said he's in Gryffindor now?"  Ron pointed at Draco.

"Yeah.  It's not like he can stay in Slytherin after his decision at the beginning of the summer.  The Hat Resorted him, and Gryffindor now has the most boys of any House for our year."  At his comment, Ron blinked.

"Decision?"  Harry groaned and put an arm on the redhead's shoulder and they started towards the scarlet train.

"If you'd read his letter instead of burning it, you would have known," he muttered.  A glance at Draco told him the blond was talking to Ginny and Hermione, oblivious to Harry's conversation with Ron.  "He refused to take the Dark Mark, Ron.  Lucius Malfoy beat and tortured him for three weeks, using the Cruciatus Curse on him several times.  He didn't break.  His arm is as bare as yours or mine."

Ron coloured.  "Oh," he muttered, shamefacedly.  "Wow.  I guess I'd better apologise, huh?"  Harry nodded, and Ron went even redder.

"Wait until we get on the train, Ron.  I don't think he wants everyone to know."  Just then, Fred and George decided to join them.

"So… Malfoy ratted out his dad?" George asked.  Harry glared.

"No," he hissed.  "Actually, the informant is anonymous, and only Draco, myself, and Professor Dumbledore know, and we're not supposed to tell.  Malfoy tortured Draco, if you must know, because _my friend_ refused to pledge his allegiance to Voldemort."  All three redheads flinched.

"Really?" Fred asked.  "So it was similar to the Dursleys?"  He quailed as Harry shot him a death glare.  The twins really had no tact.

"No.  He was treated that way for a decision.  I was treated the way I was because I'm a wizard."  He sighed.  "Draco made the decision he did because he saw me when I returned at the end of the Third Task.  He's been helping me cope with the guilt and the nightmares since we were saved by Professor Snape five weeks ago.

Fred and George's eyes went wide, and Ron voiced their obvious thought.  "_Snape_ saved you?!"

"He's not that bad, guys.  He's Draco's godfather.  Draco hadn't owled him since the end of term, and he went to check on him.  He found him chained in a storeroom, and Draco insisted that they get me."

The looks on the faces around him were almost worth the pain the memories brought.  The twins looked as if they'd missed the Bludgers, and Ron looked as if the earth had disappeared from underneath him.

"How would he know, he's never cared about you before."  Ron looked as if he was trying to find a reason for his beliefs.

"The things we suffered during the first three weeks appear to have created a mind-bond between us, and it gained full strength the night Professor Snape rescued us."  Ron was staring at him silently, and the twins looked at each other, then back at him.

"A mind-bond?" one asked.

"That's ancient magic, mate," the other chipped in.  "We have a mild one, but that's because we're identical twins and wizards."

Harry nodded.  "Dumbledore loaned us some books on the subject, and I figured that was the case with you two.  Shared pain or suffering is the strongest basis for a mind-bond, resulting in the most powerful mind-bonds.  Like ours."  Harry pointed a thumb in the direction he _knew_ Draco to be.  The three other boys looked in that direction and then stared at Harry.

"Will you three stop acting like landed fish?  Anyway, Draco's in Gryffindor now, so I want you guys to at least _try_ to be nice.  He's had a very strange summer."

"He's _where_?!"  the twins hissed.  Harry fixed them with another glare.

"You think I'd leave him in Junior Death Eater camp if we had a mind-bond??  Professor Snape said it himself:  Draco doesn't fit in there anymore.  They'd tear him to pieces for being his own person."

Ron snorted.  "Malfoy his own person?  Now that I have to see."  He shrank under the fierce green gaze of his best friend.

"His name is Draco, not Malfoy.  And don't refer to Lucius as his father.  He's disowned the spineless git."  Harry knew his voice was as cold as ice, but he hoped it would get Ron to see the point.  ~If you heard half what these idiots have said, you'd be trying to kill them,~ he thought to Draco.  ~Though the twins are nowhere near as bad as Ron.~

{Think I should come over and make a public apology for my past behaviour?} Draco asked.  Harry could feel the worry in the bond.

~That might work.  Though I'll smack Ron if he keeps being such a prat.~  Harry elbowed his companions so Draco could join them and the girls followed, merging them into one large group.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He had actually enjoyed talking to the youngest Weasley and the only female member of what he had once dubbed "The Dream Team."  The two girls were surprisingly open-minded, listening compassionately to what had been done to him and Harry at the beginning of the holidays.  He wasn't surprised that Ron was being a prat, however.  Ginny and Hermione—when had he stopped thinking of her as Granger or Mudblood?—had repeatedly called the boy that and similar names.

Once the two groups had merged, Draco took a deep, calming breath.  He had to steel himself for this, as it was tremendously humiliating, though necessary.

"Look.  I know I've been a git and a pain in the arse to all of you for the last four years.  I've ratted you out, baited you, picked fights.  I want to say that I'm sorry, but I know I can never make up for it.  I'd like to be friends, or at least pleasant acquaintances.  Truce?"  He looked around at the shocked faces and met his friend's brilliantly green eyes.  He could feel the pride flowing through the bond, almost tangible.

"Forgiven, Draco," Hermione said, a kindly smile on her face.  "I'd like to be friends."  That was encouraging.

"Can we still prank you?" one of the twins asked.  Draco raised an eyebrow.

"If I can retaliate."  This might get… interesting.

"Of course!  What fun would it be if you couldn't?" the other twin replied.  Merlin, how was he ever going to tell them apart?

Ginny put a hand on his arm, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.  Damn.  He was supposed to have more control than that.  When he felt the flash of jealousy from the bond, he grinned inwardly.  So Harry liked the girl.  Potters and redheads…

"Sticks and stones, Draco," Ginny said.  "You've never thrown anything worse than words at me.  I'd like to try friends."  Draco smiled and looked at the last member of the group, who looked to be fighting a mental battle with himself.

"All right," Ron finally grated as the queued up to get on the train.  "I'll give this a try.  I'm warning you though, hurt Harry or my family, and you'll wish you were never born."  Draco got a brief warning from the bond before Harry exploded.

"**RONALD WEASLEY**!!  Didn't you hear a word of what I said earlier?  He _can't_ hurt me, and hurting anyone I care about would be just as bad."  Harry had swatted his friend over the head, and Ron looked shocked.

"Sorry.  My mistake," Ron muttered.  Harry, with a lightning change in mood, ruffled the flame-coloured hair.

"Just so it doesn't happen again, mate.  Oh, I've got something to show you…"  Harry looked at Ginny pointedly, and Draco shook his head.  The boy had a responsibility complex so huge…

"Oh, no.  You aren't leaving me out of things this time, Ron Weasley," Ginny nearly screeched.  That voice might be dangerous.  "If Hermione can be a part of it, then so can I.  I'm less than a year younger, and you treat me as if I'm still three.  No more!"  Ron looked even more shocked, and Harry was obviously trying not to laugh at his classmate.

{I knew she was like her mum.  She just had to get over her crush on me.}  Draco smirked at his friend's mental comment.

~You think she's over you?~ he asked.  ~I think she's growing up.  She's learned to hide it better.~

Harry just groaned as the group made their way through the train in search of an empty compartment.  The twins disappeared to find Lee Jordan, and Draco was bringing up the rear.  He soon noticed that Ron and Hermione had subtly laced their fingers together and were holding hands.  He wasn't even sure if they had noticed yet.

~I think your two best friends are a little more than friends now…~ he warned.  The mind-bond had some interesting side benefits.

{I was wondering when they would stop dancing around the issue.  It took them long enough.}  "Finally, and empty one.  Let's see if we can all fit."  Draco resisted a snigger.  If the compartment wasn't large enough, the couple in front of him would become obvious.

Oddly enough, there was more than enough space in the compartment.  Once the rest were seated, Harry drew the shades on the corridor windows and drew a book from a pocket.  Draco recognised the blue cover immediately.  The animagus book.

"I found this in a trunk my Mum and Dad left in my vault at Gringotts.  It's…" Harry was interrupted by a timid tapping on the pane in the door as the train lurched into motion.

"Excuse me," a shy voice said as the door slid open a bit.  A girl poked her head in, and Draco recognised her as one of the other two fifth-year Gryffindor girls.  "Is there room for one more in here?  I found Parvati snogging with a Ravenclaw in their compartment.  I can't exactly sit and watch _that_, it's… disturbing, you know?"  Draco saw Harry's eyes flick to Ron and Hermione.

"Sure, Lavender.  Have a seat."  The girl sat next to Draco, across from Ron.  He had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach ad she looked around him to talk to Harry.

"Um, Harry?  Why is Draco Malfoy in here?"  Why was she talking as if he weren't there?  Oh.  Must be four years of taunting Gryffindors.  Whoops.

"He's in our House now.  He had some… difficult experiences over the holidays.  And he'd probably rather be talked to than about.  Right, mate?"  Harry elbowed him gently, and Draco could feel a light blush across his cheekbones.

"Erm, yeah.  Thanks, Harry."  God.  Embarrassing, that's what it was.  And to think he'd always been smooth with the ladies.  ~Thanks a lot, mate,~ he shot wryly.

"Oh!  I'm… I'm sorry," Lavender stuttered.  "Can you forgive me?  Lavender Brown, by the way."  She held out a delicate-looking hand, and Draco's etiquette lessons kicked in.  He took the hand in a gentle grip and brushed the girl's finely sculpted knuckles with his lips.

"A pleasure, Miss Brown," he murmured.  He noticed her flush, and that funny feeling turned into butterflies.  What was happening to him?

{Draco, why'd you do that?}  Harry's puzzlement matched his own.

~Not a clue, mate.  But it felt… right, almost.  And now I've butterflies the size of hippogriffs.~

{Rather like the ones I had earlier when I saw Ginny, perhaps?}  Draco gave a tiny nod in response.  {I don't really know if I want to find out what that feeling means, then.}  Draco agreed.  Then he caught what Lavender was saying.

"It's not like I wanted to spend the entire trip listening to the summer's gossip, anyway.  From what I can see, the gossip columns were completely off when it comes to Hermione."  The other girl went entirely red, as did Ron.

"Um…"  Not that there was much they could say to that.  They had no excuse.

"Ah, Lavender, if we say something, you won't take it out of this compartment, will you?"  Harry's question seemed innocent enough.

"I don't spread rumours like most people think I do.  Usually it's Parvati who does that.  You want this to stay between the six of us?  I won't be the one who tells.  No lie."  The serious look on her face told Draco that she would keep her word.

"All right then,  Apparently, my dad, godfather, and that rat—sorry, Lavender, you can get Hermione to tell you the whole story later—wrote a guide to becoming animagi before he and my mum died."  Harry held out the blue-bound book.  As Ron took the slim volume, the tracery on the cover gleamed silver.  Ron looked inside briefly before handing the book to Hermione and looking up.

"Wicked!"

What will the group find in the blue book?  Will Lavender join them?  How will the Slytherins treat Severus?  Find out Saturday on the next chapter!

Hit the little button right down there and review, cause it makes me happy!

Beth Weasley


	11. In which there are ideas and a vision

A/N- Oh.  My.  God.  This is unbelievable.  I can't believe I actually have 54 reviews as I'm typing, and not a single one is a flame or in any way critical.  Wow.  I don't deserve readers like you guys.  Thanks go out this time to MusicalHermione (heh heh heh), kichigai, Phoenix Flight, Hrei-siesn, lunablue, Charlotte, monkee-maimer, Furioh, snoopy, Rowena Ravenclaw (wow, one of the Founders reviewed…), Hermione HP, Ms. Padfoot, Wind (sorry, I like Harry/Draco too, but I couldn't write it if my life depended on it), LinZE, and totaloser.  You guys are so awesome.  I'm starting to catch up to where I've written, so chapters may start coming out slower in the near future.  I love the support you give me!  *sniffles*  By the way, if anyone has an idea for a girl for Remus, let me know!

Anyway, I don't own anything you recognize.  Most of it belongs to J. K. Rowling, and the rest I got from reading other people's fics.  Sorry, but suing me would be a waste of time, as I'm trying to get through college and therefore have nothing of worth.

Bonds of Pain

Chapter 11

In which there are ideas and a vision

Students had been back at Hogwarts for only two days, and it was already turning into a living hell for the resident Potions Master.  His House paid no attention to him, and he was seriously considering asking the other professors to take the Slytherin detentions off his hands.  Lord knew the children needed some proper discipline, not to mention proper role models.

In fact, Severus was on his way to see the headmaster about such arrangements.  Perhaps some sort of community service could be substituted, or a trip back to the time of You-Know-Who's first reign by way of a pensieve.

"Starburst."  When he named the odd, chewy Muggle candy, the gargoyle slid aside to allow him access to the office above.  Albus opened the door just as he was about to knock.

"Severus.  I thought I might see you soon.  What can I do for you?"  It took him a moment to realise that his ancient mentor was unusually sombre.

"Ah, yes.  Actually… I was wondering if an alternate detention could be arranged, or perhaps something for Figg's class, that would put a healthy dislike of the Dark Lord in the students.  Especially when it comes to his methods and motives."  It was the only thing he could come up with, as ridiculous as it sounded.

"Enlighten the students to Voldemort's evil qualities, you mean?  Show them his flaws, the folly of his ways, the mistakes in his reasoning?" Albus asked.  Severus nodded mutely, and Dumbledore frowned in thought.  "Perhaps a pensieve with memories from several different witnesses would be appropriate.  Of course, we would have to make it a part of Arabella's curriculum, so that every student will see it.  Would you be so kind as to donate some of your own memories, Severus?"  He nodded.

"It's my idea, so I will certainly put in my memories."  They might prove to be the most compelling.  He had first-hand experience of the terror that the Dark Lord revelled in.  He had been both victim and observer, though never tormentor.  In fact, he was sickened every time he witnessed a torture or a murder.  That was what had convinced him to turn spy for Dumbledore.  He knew that most of the students most at risk had no idea of what evil and pain the snake-like wizard could inflict, even on his own minions.  Especially on his own minions.  Maybe they would actually be frightened enough to make sane decisions.

Snape snapped out of his reverie to see his old mentor holding a stone bowl in front of him.  Wordlessly, he raised his wand to his temple and concentrated on his experiences with the being that had become the bane of his life.  He slowly drew a silvery wad of copied memories from the side of his head before dropping them in the rune-covered bowl.

"Thank you, Severus.  How are Hagrid's lessons going?"  Oh, blimey…

"Not too bad.  He's a bit better than most third-years, despite fifty years without practice.  He told me that he tried to turn Dudley Dursley into a pig on Potter's eleventh birthday, when he delivered the boy's letter, and he actually managed to give him a tail.  I doubt most third-years could do that."  It had actually been a very entertaining story, and Severus saw the headmaster's eyes regain some of their characteristic twinkle.  "I must say, he is eager beyond words to learn whatever I can teach him, and his hexes alone are very powerful.  Hagrid may well be a huge benefit for our side,"  The half-compliment brought a huge smile to the headmaster's face.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry grinned to himself.  They had Professor Lupin back in the castle, even though he wasn't teaching, and he had brought his "dog," Snuffles.  A few had taken the huge black creature for a Grim, but its playful, happy nature had soon changed their minds.  Lavender had recognised the dog as one she had seen several times third year, and Hermione had hurried to tell her about Harry's godfather in her room, away from listening ears.  Of course, Ginny had pried the stories of all their misadventures out of Ron over the summer.

The six students had spent many hours in Ron and Hermione's rooms.  Prefect status included private rooms, as well as access to the Prefects' bathrooms, which aided the mischief planned by the group.  Two weeks into term, the expanded Dream Team was preparing for the first Hogsmeade weekend.  The professors would be prowling all over the village for student safety, and the students themselves had been advised to take their wands, something which had been frowned upon in the past.  They were also prompted to stay in groups.

"We have to get the ingredients for the potions tomorrow," Hermione was insisting.  Ron only wanted to visit Honeydukes and Dervish and Banges, but Harry agreed somewhat with Hermione.

"Why don't we get the ingredients and then go to some of the other shops?" Ginny suggested.  She had already shown herself to be very level-headed and good at planning.  They would probably end up canvassing the village the next day, if she had anything to do with it.

"Look." He said, cutting off Ron's imminent protest.  "Why don't we just hit every shop tomorrow?  That way, everyone gets to do their shopping, we get the potions supplies, and everyone is happy.  Can we get some sleep?  I know I'm going to need it in the morning."  Draco simply nodded and stood, and Harry got up as well.

"Wait," Draco said.  He looked as if he'd just thought of something.  "We should probably be able to defend ourselves if we can't use our wands, and I believe there's a weaponsmith in the village.  I think we should stop in there and arm ourselves, just in case."  As the girls protested being so violent, Harry looked at his friend.

~You know, that's bloody brilliant, mate.  We may have to drag the girls inside, though.  Perhaps we should cast some sort of charm that will help us find the weapons we are best suited for so that we play to our advantages.~  Defending themselves might be crucial in the future, with the growing power of Voldemort.  He couldn't let anyone else die for him.

{I'll sneak down to the library and take a look for something like that.}  Harry nodded in response as they left the others and climbed to the dormitory.  As he was getting out his boxers, Harry pulled out the Invisibility Cloak and handed it to Draco.  The blond was gone when he returned from the loo.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Swathed in the borrowed Cloak, Draco padded through the stone halls in stocking feet towards the library.  He couldn't argue with Harry's idea for a charm.  The reason he had volunteered for the 'mission' was because his friend needed the sleep desperately.  He on the other hand, spent many nights creeping around, often with a sheaf of parchment on him somewhere, as the case was tonight.

The blond gently eased open the library door and slipped inside, lighting his wand once the door was closed.  At least he'd not encountered Filch on the way.

He was actually glad now for name he'd coined for the original trio so long ago.  The Dream Team fit the expanded group even better than it had the original, and it had stuck.  Their talents and knowledge complimented each other nicely, and both Professor Snape and Remus Lupin had been heard to say that they were "even worse than the Marauders."  Since he knew how legendary that group had been, Draco was quite flattered by the comparison.

Ah, well.  Compatibility charms.  Draco scanned the shelves of the Charms section for a few minutes.  Wait.  _Charms for Compatibility_.  Pulling the book from the shelf, he skimmed the table of contents.  There.  "Charms for Finding Suitable Items."

Draco smiled and pulled his Never-Ending Parchment pad from his robes.  Placing the book on a table with the pad beside it, he flipped to the first page of the chapter.  His wand swiftly tapped the parchment and then rested on the top of the first page.

"_Replicatus_."  As he began to move the tip of his wand down the page, the words were duplicated on the parchment.  Soon the twenty pages in the text were copied, and Draco went back to searching the stacks.

An hour later, Draco had been through both the normal stacks and the Restricted Section, as well as having dodged Filch and Mrs. Norris at least twice.  There had been little of use in the Restricted Section, and he saw no reason to search in there again unless he found nothing outside.

Draco had nearly made it to the Fat Lady when searing pain shot through the bond.  Panic and guilt soon followed.  Throwing caution to the winds, the blond sprinted for the tower.  He could almost hear Harry screaming.  Surely Dean, Seamus, and Neville had been woken, and he wouldn't be surprised if the rest of Gryffindor Tower had been scared out of sleep as well.

"Vervain!" he hissed at the Fat Lady.  Looking around for the invisible student, she swung open, and Draco darted through as soon as there was enough room for him.  He had to dodge confused Housemates in the common room before he could get to the stairs, and he had undoubtedly bumped at least a few.  He burst into his dorm to see Harry convulsing on his bed, eyes wide and screams ripping from his throat.  Their roommates were huddled in the farthest corner from Harry's bed, not even noticing when Draco dropped the Invisibility Cloak and the pad of parchment.

"Harry.  Harry!  Oh, God, he's having a vision," Draco yelled, catching one of the other boy's arms in a vice grip.  "Neville, get Professor McGonagall.  Dean, Professor Snape.  Seamus, Professor Dumbledore," he snapped.  The others didn't move.  "**NOW!!!**"  Panicking at his tone, they scrambled from the room.

Once they had left, Draco sat down behind the raven-haired boy and pinned his arms to his sides.  He began to rock slowly and murmur reassurances to his friend.  The screams faded to be replaced by heaving sobs.  Tears streamed down the face of the Boy Who Lived, and the emerald eyes were clouded with pain below the pulsing red scar.

"It's not your fault.  We'll get him.  Don't worry.  We can help them.  Take it easy.  You're safe."  The soft assurances continued ceaselessly, not even stopping when the teachers arrived.

"Another nightmare?" McGonagall asked.  Harry was coherent despite the sobs, and he shook his head.

"A vision, then," Dumbledore said, confirming Draco's original opinion.  He pulled a small book from somewhere in his robes and placed it on the nightstand next to Harry's glasses as Snape set out some potions for Harry.  "I would appreciate if you would write in there when you have these visions.  I have the companion in my office.  It may help us get a step ahead of Voldemort."  Draco watched as Harry nodded silently.  He was willing to give a great deal to take away his friend's pain, but there was nothing he could do.  Not to his knowledge, at least.  Hell, he still couldn't get along with Ron for any length of time.  For the _n_th time in almost two months, Draco sorrowed for the Boy Who Lived.

What will happen in Hogsmeade?  Will the charms Draco found work?  Why is Remus Lupin at the castle?  Find out next time!

I'm not sure whether I will post the next chapter on Monday or Tuesday, but I'll have it up by Wednesday at the latest!

Beth Weasley


	12. In which they go shopping and try to bre...

A/N-  Yes, I'm back.  I have one more chapter completely written at this point after this one, and I'm working as much as I can with schoolwork in the way.  My chapters are getting longer, I know, and I hope you are all enjoying reading it as much as I am writing.  Thanks go out this chapter to LoMaRiBa, MerlinHalliwell (Halliwell as in Charmed?  I really like that series…), Ms. Padfoot (Thank you so much for being one of my most faithful reviewers!), Mikee, MusicalHermione, white owl, Rei-Chan (another faithful reviewer!), and Phoenix Flight.  This chapter has one of my favorite scenes right off the bat, and it ends with two more of my favorite scenes from my favorite character's viewpoint!  *glomps Draco*

_Oi!  Leggo!  __You're squashing me !_

__

Oh.  Sorry.  *blushes*  Don't forget to tell me if you see a mistake or just want to say you like it!

Disclaimer-  I don't own anything you recognize.  I'm just playing with the characters and pretending they're mine.  I wish Draco was mine, though… ^^

Bonds of Pain

Chapter 12

In which they go shopping and try to brew a potion

Severus stalked along High Street in Hogsmeade, watching the older students as they shopped and socialized.  He would much rather be in his dungeons making healing brews for Poppy, but Dumbledore had given patrols to all the teachers, ranging from sweeps of the castle to scans of the border of the village.  He was halfway through a circuit of Hogsmeade when he spotted Potter and Draco's group—he had heard them called the Dream Team, just as the original trio had before—being harassed by a double handful of sixth and seventh year Slytherins.

"Aww, is the high-and-mighty Prince Malfoy hiding behind Gryffindors because he's afraid of Daddy?" on of the older boys taunted.  Paul Demeurt, son of a Death Eater, a boy Draco had once looked up to.  Snape glided closer to see how his godson would handle this.

"I have no father, Demeurt.  I may bear the name Malfoy, but I deny the power Lucius Malfoy once had over me.  He is no more my father than you, Crabbe, or Goyle.  So bugger off and leave my friends alone."  Severus was cheering inside.  Draco was finally standing by his own decisions, and he had made some real friends.  Then he saw that the other students weren't leaving, and a crowd was gathering.

"Make us, pansy boy."  _Ouch_.  Severus knew his godson was a perfectly normal teenage boy, with normal raging hormones and probably wet dreams like any other boy his age.  More shocking than the accusation, however, was the reaction from the Dream Team.  One of the three girls—Lavender Brown, he believed—stepped forward and slapped the offending boy, hard enough that the sound echoed along the street.  Everything in the vicinity stopped, and silence fell.

"Take that back, _slime_."  The girl's voice was like ice, making the Slytherins step back.  Draco looked absolutely furious.

"You know _nothing_."  The blond's voice was low, dangerous.  "None of you know anything about me!" he suddenly shouted to the crowd.  "Do not judge when you do not know."  To Severus' shock, Draco pulled up his navy shirt to show scars from a knife, still livid after seven weeks, still healing.  A low murmur of surprise ran through the gathered students.  "The man I used to call Father did this to me for making my own decision about what I wanted to do with my life.  So sod off, Demeurt."  Draco yanked the shirt back down and stormed off with his friends.  Severus thought he saw them duck into a weapons shop as he swept forward to discipline his students.  He had thought they were more grown up than they seemed.

"I hope you boys enjoyed that," he crooned, noting the red handprint on one cheek.  _Ouch again_.  He absently noted not to get on Miss Brown's bad side in the future.  "You will all be serving detention with Filch.  Separately."  The boys groaned.  "You will also be returning to the castle immediately."  It wasn't even noon yet.  Hopefully they would curb their desire to taunt Gryffindors from here on out.  He escorted the group of teens from Hogsmeade with a severe tongue-lashing and had them taken back to the school before returning to his patrol.

(A/N-  Wasn't that fun??)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

~That went moderately well,~ Harry commented as they slid into the weaponry shop.  Draco snorted distractedly.  Harry grinned lopsidedly and took a look around.

Metal gleamed from every wall, as well as several display cases.  Battle axes, broadswords, rapiers, and daggers shone dangerously.  Draco had pored over his copied pages that morning before breakfast, and the best charm he could find had been cast on each member of the group before they left Gryffindor Tower.  Surprisingly, the girls had not objected, and Ginny had actually been _eager_ to purchase her own weapons.  There had been no adverse reactions from the charm, so the Dream Team had assumed that it was working when they headed for the village.

{I think the charm really did work,}  Draco thought dryly in his friend's mind.  The darker boy paid no attention, peering intently into a display which held a large pair of matched daggers, almost long enough to be short swords.  They looked to be nearly the length of his forearm, with a slightly serpentine edge on one side that looked as if it would hurt more coming out than going in.  Not that he wanted to test that on anyone.

"Excellent craftsmanship on those blades, sir," a smooth, too smooth, voice said.  Harry looked up to find the shopkeeper leaning over him.

"Indeed."  The portly little man didn't give off a very trustworthy feeling.  ~I don't think this shop sells normal armaments, Draco.~

{If I remember correctly, everything in here has some sort of magical property.  You could be getting feedback from the weapons themselves.}

"Are there any… _special_ features?" Harry asked the shopkeeper.  The man practically grovelled.

"They are adamantine, my lord.  Unbreakable.  The metal is so resistant to damage they had to be forged with magic.  They will never need sharpening because of the metal, however.  Would my lord like to examine the daggers more closely?"  Harry didn't miss the upgrade in title from "sir" to "my lord," but he was tiring of the obsequious whine.  He nodded, and the shopkeeper scrambled to open the display and withdraw the twin blades.  The hilts seemed to be wrapped in a red suede, and the crosspieces, simple curls, were golden-hued.

As Harry picked up one of the blades in his left hand, a warmth surged through him.  It felt right, and he flipped the dagger end for end, catching it with the point near his elbow.  The pommel was a gilded lion's head, a deep red stone clenched in its jaws.

"Story the seller told is that they once belonged to Godric Gryffindor himself, my lord.  Over a thousand years old, but as good as the day they were forged."  Harry gave the balding little man a sharp glance , and he shut up.

"Are they enhanced with any spells?" he asked, a Snape glare on his face and a near-snarl in his voice.  The smaller man, reminding him oddly of that _rat_, shrank in on himself.

"N-not to my knowledge, my lord.  Does my lord wish to look at something with magical enhancements?"

Harry smiled grimly at the simpering man.  "No.  These will do just fine.  Perhaps something to bear them in, however?"  The man ducked in something akin to a bow.

"Of course, my lord.  I have the perfect thing.  If my lord would excuse me for a moment?"  Harry nodded and glanced towards his friends as the man scurried off.

~Did you _see_ him, Draco?  Practically falling all over himself.  Eurgh.~  His blond friend shot him a pitying glance before turning to lovingly stroke a bastard sword hanging on the wall.

{I'm glad he's not fawning all over me.  I'd hex him into next week.  You're too patient for your own good.}

~I'm tempted to curse him.  I take it you really like that sword?~  Harry smirked.  The bloody thing was huge, but he could see Draco wielding it.  Ron was hefting a quarterstaff with bronze caps on the ends.  Lavender was toying with a pair of nunchaku in a corner, Hermione was twirling a short sword and a matching dagger by the window, and Ginny was idly fingering a set of throwing knives on another wall.

"My lord?"  Harry was snapped from his speculation by the oily shopkeeper, who was holding a red belt with a sheath on either side.  The leather was the same shade as the hilts of the daggers, and the belt buckle was shaped into a phoenix in flight.  It, too, was gilded and bejewelled in the same blood-red stones, and ornate tracery on the twin scabbards was plated with gold as well.  He could just see a phoenix and a lion in the tracery on one of the scabbards.

"This was sold to us as a companion to the blades, my lord.  We do not display it in order to reduce suspicion."

"Very well.  The blades and belt.  Ten galleons?"  Harry's offer made the man look scandalized.

"Thirty, my lord."

"Twelve," Harry countered.  There was no way he was going to pay thirty galleons for two knives, no matter who might have owned them, or what they were made of.

"Twenty-five."

"Fifteen."

"Twenty."

"Eighteen, no more."

"Done, my lord."  The man sheathed the daggers as Harry counted out the gold coins.  When the offensive little man scooped up the money, Harry buckled his new belt on under his cloak and secured the ends of the sheaths around his thighs.

Twenty minutes later, they had all purchased their weapons and some way to carry them on their persons.  They gladly left the shopkeeper behind, chatting eagerly about their acquisitions.

After a full day of shopping, they were knackered.  At least, Harry was.  Draco had walked around all day with his sword strapped to his back, as it would have dragged on the ground if he'd worn a belt scabbard.  He'd left his cloak draped over his arm all day as the weather was nice enough to go around in shirtsleeves.  Of course, the entire Dream Team had carried their weapons everywhere all day.  Ginny had secreted her knives who-knew-where, and both Lavender and Hermione had belts for their armaments.  Ron had simply used his quarterstaff as a walking stick all day.

As usual, Hermione had purchased several books on hand-to-hand combat, as well as a book on each of their weapons.  She wanted to read when they returned to the common room, but Harry instead suggested that they work on the potion for their Animagus transformations, and the rest agreed.  They were going to put away their purchases in their rooms and meet in Hermione's room to brew the complex potion.  They could hardly meet in Ron's room, as it was as much of a mess as his room at the Burrow.

Harry could hardly wait to brew a potion, for a change.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco was having problems deciding where to put his sword.  He wasn't about to leave it out where Seamus, Dean, and Neville could mess with it.  He had been through a great deal of weapons training as a child, which they probably had not, and they might take off important bits if they started playing with his beauty.

{You know, you could put that… thing under the covers.}  Harry might have been out of the room, but they had been working on the range in which they could communicate through the bond.  Who knew when they might be attacked?  It would be best to have a form of long-distance communication that could not be intercepted or disrupted.

~It's on a thing,~ he replied irately.  ~You're right though.  Under the covers is a good place.  I'll draw the curtains, too.~  He did so, gently smoothing the blankets before closing the velvet drapes.  Satisfied that his roommates would not mess with his sword, he swept from the room and made his way into the prefect's hall, finally arriving in Hermione's room.  As usual, he was the last there.

"According to the book, the potion will trigger the initial transformation," Hermione was saying.  Ron was sitting next to her and reading over her shoulder, brushing against the brown-haired girl.  Harry was sitting next to the youngest Weasley, also close enough to touch, though Draco noticed that his friend had pointedly avoided looking the girl in the eyes for the last two weeks.  Harry had, of course, gotten the rest of his parents' belongings from the headmaster the day after their trip to Diagon Alley.  A book in the library had provided better information on promise rings, which recognized the bearer's true love on eye contact and magically placed themselves on the left ring fingers of both bearer and true love.

Wait.  Eye contact.  Damn.  Potter was avoiding Ginny's eyes because he didn't want to put her in danger.  This had to be rectified, and Draco was going to take care of it now.

~You have the promise rings on you, don't you?~ he asked.  Harry stiffened, giving him all the answer he needed, and his friend's hand darted into a pocket.

"'Scuse me, 'Mione, but I need to take care of something before we start."  The rest of the Dream Team stared as Draco stood beside Harry, who was turning red.  "Gin, look at him.  Straight at his eyes."  Harry looked at his lap, and Draco grabbed his hair, forcing him to look up.  "Dammit, Potter, this is for your own good.  _Look at her!_"  The others were giving him odd looks as Harry's eyes slowly met Ginny's.

"What the…" Ron started to say, but he cut off as a golden glow surrounded the pair.  "Bloody hell."  Hermione elbowed Ron, but neither of them took their eyes from the glowing couple.  Lavender, too, was transfixed.

After what seemed like hours, the glow faded, and Draco could again see his dark-haired friend and the fiery younger girl.  Their left hands had entwined between them, and a silver band adorned each ring finger.  Draco could sense the raw emotion Harry was feeling at the moment.  Not wanting to intrude, he put up a temporary wall around the bond and moved to sit between Lavender and Ginny.

"Hmpf.  At least now he'll stop moping about her all the time," he idly commented.  He could see Ron winding up to say something about the situation, and he was trying to get the other boy to lighten up a bit.

"Oi!  Earth to Harry Potter!" the redhead said, leaning over to swat his friend.  "Stop staring at my sister!"  Harry's only response was to lean towards said sister, his eyes closing.  Ginny copied the motion.  Oh lord.  They were going to start a snog session right there, in the middle of Hermione's floor.

"Potter," Draco warned, "this is not the time or place to explore her tonsils."  No reaction.  They were too immersed in, as he had said, exploring each other's tonsils.  Exasperated, he pulled out his wand and aimed it at their faces.  "_Aquae frigido_!"  A stream of cold water squirted from his wand tip, hitting dead on target.  The pair spluttered and pulled apart, aiming glares at Draco.

"Malfoy…" Harry drawled.  Draco held up his hands to forestall an attack.

"We have more important things to do than watch you two snog each other senseless all afternoon."  Harry sighed in defeat, still holding the auburn-haired girl's hand.  Ron, on the other hand, had turned redder than his hair.

"What the hell do you think you were doing to my baby sister?!" he yelled.  Harry's eyes went wide, but Ginny displayed her legendary temper.

"I am not a baby, Ronald Weasley!  I am only a year younger than you, and I can very well make my own decisions about what I do and with whom I do it, so shut up!  I'll kiss Harry if I damn well want to!"

~Well.  That certainly shut him up.~  The room was oddly silent as Ginny sat back.  Ron looked shell-shocked, but Hermione and Lavender shook with suppressed laughter.  Draco, for his part, leaned back casually.

"Aunt Rita would have a field day with this," he muttered.  Attention in the room suddenly went from Ginny to him.

"Who?" the others chorused.

"My aunt and godmother.  Rita Skeeter.  I wish I knew where she was.  I've owled her a few times lately, but I haven't gotten anything back, and she hasn't written anything in the _Prophet_, either."  Hermione smacked her forehead and stood up, opening her wardrobe and coming back to the small circle with a large jar.  It seemed to have several leaves and twigs inside.

"Here, you can have her," she said, a slight sneer in her voice, as she handed the jar to him.  He looked inside, and a very familiar beetle with familiar markings looked back out at him.

"Aunt Rita?!"  Draco quickly unscrewed the lid and glared at Hermione.  "Why?  You practically kidnapped her!"

"And how else was I supposed to get her to stop printing lies about Harry?  I know you saw that nonsense, and you know better!"  As the yelling once again escalated, the beetle crawled from the jar and transformed into a very exhausted-looking reporter.

"Draco, I'm all right.  It's not as if she hurt me…"  The blond felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see his aunt behind him.

"But she put you in a jar…"  He would have continued, but Rita shook her head.

"It did no harm, dear.  Though I would like to know why my godson is in a Gryffindor prefect's room with five of the people he used to tease most."

Instead of brewing the potion for their initial transformation, the Dream Team spent the evening explaining what had happened over the past two and a half months.

How is Hagrid's tutoring going?  Who is the DADA professor?  Why are Remus and "Snuffles" around?  Find out next chapter!

Hit the little purple button and review!

Beth Weasley


	13. In which there are musings, potions, tra...

A/N- Ok, I know I'm getting slow at updating now, but I'm trying to stay a chapter ahead of myself in writing this, so I'll be posting each chapter when I finish writing the chapter after.  I just finished writing Chapter 14 yesterday, so I'm typing up 13 today.  Shorter list of thanks for this chapter… Jordan, kichigai, totaloser (Well, Rita would do anything for Draco… she _is_ his godmother, after all.). Endora (Thanks for betaing, babe!), MerlinHalliwell, Rei-Chan (Not _every _character… Sev and Rita are pretty much it.), Hrei-siesn (You'll find out about the range in Chapter 14, I promise!), Priestess of Anubis (I have no intention of stopping… I carry my notebook everywhere, and I write this story during class.  I'm such a bad girl.), Ms. Padfoot (Sorry, but I really like Ginny.  I mean, Tom had to know that Harry was the one who got rid of the real him, and he undoubtedly wanted him dead, and she didn't let Tom take her over enough to kill Harry.  She's got to be one strong girl.), and Phoenix Flight.  You all are the reason I keep writing and posting.  If it wasn't for all the good reviews I get (Not one bad review yet!  True, there are some complaints about the ship, but I am _so_ HP/GW and RW/HG…), I would never have posted.  You guys rock!

_Oi, don't forget your disclaimer for the chapter._

Thanks for reminding me, Harry.  I don't own anything you recognize.  All things that are canon belong to Ms. Rowling.  Though I do wish Draco was mine…

_Hey!  Why me and not Harry?_

Because you're not taken, Draco.  Anyways, on with the story!

Bonds of Pain

Chapter 13

In which there are musings, potions, transformations, and a good talk

It had been a long two weeks.  Between tutoring Hagrid—which hadn't been quite as hard or as bad as Severus had expected—teaching his classes, disciplining students, and keeping an eye out for Lupin's huge black dog, which had taken to prowling the grounds and looked very similar to Sirius Black's Animagus form (though he had not tried to look that closely), Severus barely had time to brew the Wolfsbane Potion for Lupin, let alone be jealous that Arabella Figg had gotten the Defence position this year instead of him.

Figg had been part of Potter's group during their Hogwarts years, but she had oddly disappeared after the first fall of the Dark Lord.  Severus had no idea where she had been, but she had requested that an anti-aging potion be ready for her when she arrived just prior to the start of term.  He had not seen her before she took the potion, but afterwards she looked just as he guessed she would, fourteen years older than when he had last seen her.

"You haven't changed much, have you, Severus?" she had asked upon seeing him.  She had also started up the old joke about him washing his hair, the joke that Black had so enjoyed using to tease him.  Arabella, somehow, had found out about the flyaway nature of his hair when it was not tamed with large amounts of de-frizzing potions.  He just hoped that she had not told any of the students, especially not the Gryffindors.

Lupin, on the other hand, had kept to himself, much to Severus' relief.  He had found out just before the Hogsmeade weekend that the large black dog was the werewolf's companion, answering to the ridiculous name of Snuffles.  It seemed to have a particular dislike of him.

Fortunately, the Slytherin students seemed to have developed a healthy fear of their Head of House after the incident in the village.  Word of the boys' punishment had spread like wildfire, as the first member had served his detention directly after returning to the castle.  Filch had set him to cleaning the entire trophy hall, top to bottom, after confiscating his wand.  Demeurt had not finished until nearly three in the morning, after over twelve hours of work.  Filch had assured Severus that there was plenty of work for the handful of boys.  Some of his students had obviously heard, and Ars Serpens, the Slytherin dorms and common room, was strangely quiet, as if every student was afraid of putting even a toe over the line.  The other Houses were heard  whispering about him "going over the edge."

At least he was finally getting some peace around the school.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sunday night found the Dream Team gathered in Hermione's room again, seated around a cauldron and waiting for two guests to arrive.  Harry had conjured a large pouf for himself, and Ginny was snuggled comfortably in his lap.  Draco and Lavender had ganged together to tease Ron and Hermione ceaselessly in an effort to get the two prefects to admit they liked each other.  Both of the targets were bright red, and Harry and Ginny were chuckling at them.

"You know, you two are so obvious.  Why don't you just get it out in the open instead of agonizing over the whole thing?" Harry asked.  Ron and Hermione stared at him.

"Get what out in the open?" Ron queried.  Harry rolled his eyes and looked at Ginny.

"You like each other.  Go have a good snog and tell everyone you're an item," Ginny replied.  "We are so tired of you both moping about the other."  Ron and Hermione looked at each other, shocked.

"Really?" they asked in unison.  Nodding as one in response, their hands gripped each other's as if with a mind of their own.

"All right, enough already!" Draco yelled.  "We don't want a repeat of their scene last night!"  The blond jerked a thumb at Harry and Ginny in their pouf, and they both blushed.

~I still owe you for that one, mate,~ Harry growled mentally.  However, just as he was about to continue, there was a scratching at the door.  Draco got up to answer and  let in a large black dog.

"Ah, Snuffles.  Half our company is here, then," Harry said.  The dog trotted over and put its head under Harry's hand.  The dark-haired boy scratched obligingly, and something whirred.  A large beetle flew from Snuffles' back and landed a few feet away before transforming into Rita Skeeter.

"Good evening, my dears," she cooed, shooting a worried glance at Draco as she gave him a brief squeeze.  "You know, Snuffles is quite an odd dog.  Very intelligent."

Harry gave a short laugh.  "Nothing that goes on in here leaves this group without our agreement, understood, Ms. Skeeter?"  He waited for the reporter's nod before continuing.  "You know that Sirius Black is my godfather, but you might not have heard that he is innocent."

"Really?  Then who betrayed your family?"  Skeeter looked _very _interested.

"Who else but the fourth Marauder, Peter Pettigrew, also known as Wormtail?"  Harry scowled as he spoke the name of the traitor.  He'd had a jeweller in Hogsmeade put hands in his father's pocket watch for his friends on Saturday, meanwhile having Peter's hand destroyed and his parents' hands removed and placed in a small jewel box for safekeeping.

"So that's who you meant at the end of the Tournament.  I imagine he faked his death and was responsible for the deaths of those Muggles, then?"  At least the reporter instincts were good for _something_.

"Yes.  You see, Wormtail, my father, and Sirius were like you: illegal Animagi.  Wormtail is a rat.  My father, Prongs, was a stag.  And Padfoot you've already met.  Right, Sirius?"  The question was directed at Snuffles, who became his godfather in an instant.  Skeeter squawked briefly and placed a hand over her heart.

"Dear me.  I'm sorry, Mr. Black.  Force of habit."  She held out a hand, and Sirius gave it a quick squeeze.

"Call me Sirius or Padfoot, please."  The woman nodded and took a seat beside Draco.

"I take it you can guess why we've asked two illegal Animagi here?" Draco asked, sounding slightly amused.  Sirius snorted from his seat by Harry and Ginny's pouf.

"I'd guess Prongs left you a few of our books somewhere, and you're working your way through the Animagus book."  Harry smiled and handed Sirius the blue volume.

"Spot on.  He and Mum left a trunk in the vault, buried in a pile of Galleons."  Sirius sniggered as if it were typical of the couple and passed the book to Skeeter.  She read the title page and then looked at Sirius, one eyebrow raised.

"Since you're Padfoot, the traitor is Wormtail, and James was Prongs, I take it that Lupin was Moony because of his lycanthropy?"  Sirius nodded, and she paged further through the book.  "If I had known the three of you were interested…"

"If we'd known you knew how, we'd have managed it before our fifth year."

"And then you would have driven all the professors over the deep end, Sirius," Harry interrupted.  "Can we get on with brewing the potion?"

"All right then, Prongs Junior.  Keep your skin on.  Which potion are you starting?"  Sirius had the book back and was flipping through the first section.

"We're up to the initial transformation, the one aided by the potion," Ron said.  Hermione smacked the redhead's arm.

"If you did this much studying on your classes, you wouldn't have to worry so much about your OWLS."  Ron simply snorted and waited for the experienced Animagi to give instructions.  Rita, with a look at Sirius, cleared her throat.

"First, you need to dissolve the powdered mugwort in the boiling water…"

As the evening passed, the liquid in the cauldron changed both colour and consistency several times, and each student eventually had a beaker of violet goop to drink.  Hermione had taken out a quill and parchment to record their changes, and Ron bravely went first.  When the changes began, he looked decidedly feline, his hair turning a dark red and whiskers sprouting from his face.  His skin was covered in a golden fuzz for a few moments before the potion wore off with a **pop**.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Not only did the purple gunk taste positively diabolical, it also took a lot of energy out of one.  After his swig and partial transformation, Draco was completely beat.  For his part, his skin had turned into a layer of yellow and white scales, and Harry had commented that his eyes had had slits instead of round pupils, much like the eyes of a snake.

Harry had grown a full coat of sleek black fur and pointy ears, while Ginny and Hermione had both sported feathers the colour of their hair.  Ginny's feathers had been brown as well, but she didn't seem to mind.  Lavender's ears had become long and narrow, and she had been covered in a soft fuzz the same colour as her hair.

Before the group split to head for their respective beds, they had arranged to meet for another practice session Friday night.  Sirius had left as Snuffles, but his Aunt Rita had stayed a bit longer just to talk to him.  Hermione had been polite enough to leave them alone for a few minutes.

"Lucius really did all those awful things to you, Draco?" she asked, a bit panicked.  He nodded slowly.

"Yeah… He chained me in one of the storerooms.  I'm not sure I'll ever be able to go back to the Manor."  He shuddered.  That place was full of bad memories.

"I'm here for you, dear.  And I'm sure Severus is, as well."  He could feel his godmother rubbing his back in an effort to comfort him.  Silently, he reached up and pulled his tee over his head, baring his torso and the scars he bore.  The woman gasped, and Draco felt gentle fingers tracing the marks.

"Oh, Draco… I wish I could have been there for you."

"It's not your fault, Aunt Rita.  Besides, you and Uncle Sev are better parents than Lucius and Narcissa ever could have been.  You're the reason I'm not like _him_."  Rita would know he spoke of both his father and the man's "Master."  They had had this discussion quite a few times over the past year.

"Shh.  You never have to go near either one of them.  Lucius is locked away, and the other knows you'll never serve him.  You're free from their expectations."  Rita had wrapped her arms around him, and he leaned into the embrace.  He could never get enough of the reporter's embraces.  He got far too few at the Manor.

"I missed you, Aunt Rita."

"I'm here now, dear.  I'm going to help you and your friends get Mr. Black acquitted so that Harry can have a home other than this school.  From what you both said last night, those Muggles actively hate him for who he is.  And you don't have to go back to that cold Manor.  You could come stay with me next summer."

"Thanks, Aunt Rita.  Those Muggles… They do hate him."  He looked up at his godmother.  "If you could see what I saw him go through at the beginning of the hols, you'd know.  They… they locked him in a _cupboard_.  They didn't feed him and barely gave him water.  I'm fairly sure he was beaten daily, as well."  His throat constricted, and he could feel tears starting.  "He had the flu when we got him, and he didn't even weigh as much as a normal first-year.  Even in the state I was in, I could carry him that night."

"Dear Merlin.  Now I really regret those articles I wrote about him."  His aunt gave him a warm hug and pulled him up from the floor.  "Now get to bed, dear.  You have Sev first thing in the morning, I believe."

Draco nodded.  "At least Uncle Sev is starting to drop the whole House rivalry business."  With that, his Aunt Rita transformed into the beetle, and Draco headed to the dorms to get his beauty sleep.

What animals are the members of the Dream Team becoming?  Will the Slytherins stay so subdued?  Why is Severus so grumpy?  Find out in the next chapter!

Please review!

Beth Weasley


	14. In which there is moping, brooms, and Qu...

A/N-  Phew.  Yes, I know it's taken me a long time to get this chapter up, but I ran into a little bit of writer's block towards the end of Chapter 15.  I got through it this morning, though, so the next bit should go pretty smoothly.  *sighs*  Unfortunately, I am disappointed that I only got 4 reviews for this chapter, including the one from Endora, my lovely beta.  *claps for Endora*  Thank you, dearie.  Tempest in Blue:  Sorry you don't like Ginny or the whole "Potters and redheads" bit, but I think that is the direction JKR seems to be heading, and it's a ship I like.  If it makes you feel better, Endora doesn't like it either.  Silver Angel:  Harry's not going to be a wolf, but he will be a large predator.  Jordan:  I'm working on the bit with Sirius being freed.  I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to manage it yet.  LinZE: Thanks for your encouraging words.  I hope you all enjoy this chapter, as it is probably my longest yet.  Everyone gets nice big chunks of page, and there's even a character I used to role play in here.  And thanks again to Ms. Padfoot and Rei-Chan, my two most faithful readers.  Please review!  The more reviews Beth gets, the happier Beth is.  The happier Beth is, the faster she writes.  The faster she writes, the sooner chapters go up.  The sooner chapters go up, the happier readers are.  The happier readers are, the more they review.  Vicious cycle!

Oh yeah, I don't own anything you recognize unless you recognize it from this fic.  Everything else belongs to other people.  Waaaahh.

Bonds of Pain

Chapter 14

In which there is moping, brooms, and Quidditch

Severus couldn't believe his ears or his eyes.  First he saw Arabella Figg practically flirting with Lupin's very familiar dog, and then he overheard the woman beating herself up because she had not watched Lily's relatives as Potter grew up.  Maybe he needed to talk to Wen about it.  She always seemed to have answers for him, and usually they were logical and intelligent, not to mention true.

Looking at the time, he figured his old friend would be home.  It _was_ seven in the evening, after all.  Many shops in Muggle London closed at six.  Taking a pinch of powder from a bowl atop his mantle, he threw it into the heatless flames.

"Wendolyn Altair."  The flames turned a brilliant green, and Wen's head appeared in them.

"Sev!  How…"  The cheerful greeting screeched to a halt as the brown-haired witch saw his expression.  "What's up?  You look more depressed than usual."

"You heard that Arabella Figg reappeared to teach Defence this year?"  He waited for his friend's nod before continuing.  "I happened to hear her a few minutes ago berating herself for not keeping a closer eye on how Potter's former guardians were treating him."

"Dear Merlin…  Mind if I come over to talk, Sev?  I'm not sure if this connection is secure."  Severus shook his head.  Of course he didn't mind, this was Wen, his oldest friend.  Within minutes, the petite woman had Flooed into his room.

"Gods, Wen, she was _flirting_ with a _dog_ earlier!  I swear, Ara's lost her mind."  ~Or I have.~  He stopped ranting when Wen began to chuckle.  "What?"

"You know I used to hang out with Ara, Lily, and some of the other girls from other Houses.  I was as much the Lone Slytherin as you were, but I _did_ have friends outside our House.  I also knew some of their secrets.  For example, Peter, Sirius, and James were illegal Animagi so they could accompany Remus on the full moon."

"Oh."  That was a bit of a shock, to say the least.  Though he did remember a big black animal turning into his school rival in hospital at the end of the last term.  "so that's how they managed some of those pranks."

Wen giggled.  "Petey was a rat, yes.  He was the only one who used his form in pranks, as the other two were quite large.  James was a stag.  Remus owled me when Harry managed to cast a Patronus, and it takes the form of James' stag.  A magnificent creature, he was.

"And Black?"  ~Please don't let me be right.~  He had a nagging suspicion, though he couldn't clearly remember the form from that awful first night of the second reign.  After all, Black and Figg had been very close in school.

"A Grim, oddly enough.  Big black dog, but he still had his blue eyes."  At the reply, Severus sighed and put his head in his hands.  "I take it the dog Ara was flirting with fits that description?"  He simply nodded, not looking up.  The couch shifted as he felt Wen sit down and put an arm around hi.

"You liked her in school, didn't you?"  He nodded again miserably.  ~Damn that Black, taking away everything I've ever wanted.~  "You know you can talk to me, Sev.  I'm more than willing to listen."

"They all either pity me or hate me," he groaned.  "They don't see that I want respect, that I have feelings, too.  I want to be liked for being myself, not for some image someone has of me."  He could feel Wen trying to draw him closer, and he tried to shrug her off.

"Don't you dare try and push me away, Sev.  _I've_ always liked you the way you are,  I don't care what anyone else says.  You may not seem like it on the outside, but you're a good person.  A _very_ good person, despite what you may once have done."  Severus lifted his head to look at the woman beside him.  He had never seen this side of quiet little Wendolyn Altair before.

Heaving a huge sigh, Severus leaned into the comforting presence of one of his oldest friends, his eyes closing as he relaxed.  He failed to notice the pained look that flashed across Wen's face.  It was the same look he had once worn each time he saw Ara Figg in the company of Sirius Black.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry slouched into the common room, completely sore.  He had slept like the dead last night after sparring in an empty classroom with a series of golems the evening before.  Sure, Hermione had figured out how to spell the magical constructs so that none of the students would actually be hurt, but the workouts were still draining.

Harry was beginning to become quite adept with his twin daggers, even after only a week of practice.  They had met daily to battle the golems, and this had served to build his muscles as well as teaching him to defend himself.  On Wednesday afternoon, the Quidditch team had met to elect a new team captain and discuss tryouts for reserves and a Keeper.  Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had oohed and aahed over his new physique as he turned red, and the twins had thumped his back, telling him he could almost pass for a Beater.

He had rapidly been voted as Captain, the other members of the team pleading that they'd be graduating in June, and they would be of no use the next year.  After complaining for a few minutes that they had better not make him do everything since he didn't know how, they had set trials for Saturday morning.  They would be recruiting an entirely new team of reserves in addition to the new Keeper.  The tryout poster had rapidly been drafted and hung in the common room, where a crowd had gathered within minutes.  Now Saturday was here, and Harry was nervous beyond belief.

What if no one showed?  What if none of the hopefuls were any good?  What if he couldn't decide?  Mentally, Harry smacked himself.  That was no way to think.  Besides, he would have the seventh-years on the team to help him.  They know what they were doing.

Friday morning at breakfast, Draco had been surprised when a group of owls had flown into the Great Hall during mail call and dropped a brightly wrapped object in his lap.  The shape of the package was unmistakeably that of a broomstick.

Harry had smiled as Draco had opened the card attached to the package.  He knew, of course, what it said.  The blond had read the message, gaped, and then swatted his friend.

{You twat!}  The thought came through the link as a shout.  {I can't believe you managed to keep this a secret.  Uncle Sev must have helped you.}

"Actually, he did.  He filled out the order form and sent it off for me shortly after our trip to London.  It took them this long to get it finished and in the post," Harry had replied, a huge grin on his face.

Draco had stared at him for a moment before punching him lightly on the arm.  "Like I said, you twat!"  He had waited until the first break of the day before unwrapping the broom in the Gryffindor common room.  They had gathered a crowd, and appreciative murmurs had coursed through the room as Draco had revealed a Firebolt.  Under the serial number on the brass plate, at Harry's request. The manufacturer had engraved "Draco M."

{Thanks could never say enough, mate.}

~It doesn't have to.  You're my friend.  Friends do nice things for each other.~  Harry had clapped Draco on the shoulder.  "I like to make my friends happy.  The look on your face is all the thanks I need."  In fact, Harry was planning on getting new brooms for the four youngest Weasleys, as well.

"Oi, Harry!"  He was jolted from his reverie by the twins.  They were grinning as if they'd just won the Daily Prophet drawing again.

"Did you hear?  Mum went shopping in London yesterday…" George started

"… and guess what she found in Gringotts?" Fred finished.  Harry decided to play dumb.

"What?"

"Somebody deposited several thousand Galleons in our vault!" Fred crowed.

"The goblins won't tell who, nor will they return it to whoever put it in."  George managed to look ecstatic and puzzled at the same time.

"Wow.  Congratulations!"  Good, they hadn't figured it out.

"And so Mum went and got us Firebolts because she thinks we had something to do with it!"  Both twins were practically dancing in glee, and Harry smiled.  He had made two more of his friends happy.

"What about Ron and Ginny?"  Well, the money might as well be used on new brooms.  Since the youngest Weasleys were all such Quidditch fanatics, the brooms would be well used and cared for.

"Er… well…"

"Mum didn't say anything, but I think I heard Gin squeal a few minutes ago."  Fred smirked, and a whoop drifted down the Prefect corridor.  If anything, the twins' smirks grew wider.

"That sounded a lot like Ron," Harry said, suppressing a grin.  Predictably, Ron burst into view.

"I GOT A BROOM!!!!" the lanky redhead bellowed.  Many of the students in the common room jumped, and soon there was a crowd congratulating all three Weasley boys and thumping them on their backs.  Harry managed to glimpse a Firebolt in Ron's hands through the throng, but his friend was soon lost in the sea of students.

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when a slim, feminine hand slipped into his own.  He looked to his left to se a slightly flushed redhead standing next to him.

"I know you had something to do with this," she said.  Her chocolate-coloured eyes gleamed, and Harry began to feel that odd sensation in the pit of his stomach again.  He squeezed her right hand in his left.

"Yeah, but your mum doesn't know.  Draco helped, too."  He smiled at the slender girl, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Thanks, then."  The two words made him feel almost light-headed.  "Mum got a Firebolt for me, too.  Evidently there are now enhancement packages for the different positions.  Mum sent the twins Beater sets, and she said she'd get them for Ron and I if we get on the team or in the reserves today."

"Wow.  You're trying out, then?"  He felt her nod against his shirt.  "Well, would you mind helping me collect the current team?  I think the chasers are in their dorm."

"Sure," Ginny sighed.  "You want them to meet you on the pitch, Captain?"  Her left hand reached across to poke him in the ribs, and Harry grabbed the offending digits to pull his girlfriend close.

"Right.  But first, I need a kiss."  He flashed a mischievous grin, and the flame-haired girl—a goddess in his eyes—stood on her tiptoes and initiated a soul-searing kiss.  The raven-haired boy wrapped his arms around her waist, and he could feel her fingers in his unruly locks.

"Oi!  You may be Captain, Potter, but it doesn't mean you can molest our sister!"  Harry stiffened as the twins began to yell, but Ginny pulled back and rounded on her older brothers.

"Sod off!  I can snog Harry senseless if I want to!  I told Ron, and I'm telling you:  I am old enough to make my own decisions and I expect you to respect those decisions!"  With that, Harry's fiery little goddess stormed up the girls' stairs.

The Weasley twins sidled up to a stunned Harry, both turning red.  Obviously Ginny had a similar effect on them as she did on Ron.

"Er, sorry 'bout that, Harry."

"Yeah, Ron said she blew up at him, but we didn't expect her to get so hacked off."

Harry snorted.  Yeah right.

{Er, Harry, mate?} Draco thought at him.  They had extended their mental range by carrying on conversations with each other all over the castle and its grounds, and they now had a fair range.

~Yeah, Draco?~ he responded.  The blond sounded worried.

{Um.  I can't find my gloves.}

Dear Merlin. Of all the days…  ~Under your bed, maybe?  I think I saw you kick them under there yesterday.~  He was sure he'd seen the bloody things on the floor in their dorm a few days earlier.

{Hmmm…  There they are!  You were right, under the bed.}  The bond told Harry that his friend was blushing.

~Ha!  Told you so, Malfoy!~

{I'm coming down there to get you, Potter!} the blond retorted.

~Gotta catch me first!~  Harry turned to the twins.  "I'm headed down to make sure the Slyths don't take the pitch from us, thinking they can get a sneak practice in!"  Grabbing his Firebolt from a couch, Harry darted through the portrait hole, hell-bent for the grounds and the Quidditch Pitch.

Maybe tryouts wouldn't be so bad.

When ten o'clock rolled around, the team had gathered, along with a group that seemed to include most of Gryffindor.  All four Weasleys had their new Firebolts in hand, and they looked very proud.

"_Sonorus_," Harry muttered, his wand pointed at his own throat.  "Attention, please."  His voice boomed across the pitch, and every eye was suddenly on him.  "Those of you who are trying out for the position of reserve Beater, see Fred and George Weasley.  Reserve Seekers will need to see me after the trials for Keepers and Chasers.  We will be testing for Keepers first.  Angelina?"  Harry watched a few students wander off with the twins before pointing his wand at his throat again.  "_Quietus_," he whispered.  Two of the hopeful Beaters were obviously first-years, a pair of twins that had joined them at the beginning of the term.  James and John Tyrbinn were turning out to be a miniature pair of Weasley twins, only with black hair instead of red.

"Would the Keeper candidates come forward, please?" Angelina yelled.  Ron and several younger students stepped forward.  "Each of you will face twenty shots from this year's Chasers.  The highest number of blocks will have the spot, and the second highest will be the reserve.  Clear?"  All the candidates nodded, and a second-year boy zoomed up to the goals, looking a bit shaky on his broom.  Fred and George were already hitting the Bludgers at a pair of hopefuls.

{Dear gods.  Four Beaters trying to kill us.  Help,} came the panicky thought from Draco.

~Pressure, my friend.  Coolness under fire is a blessing in this game.~

{You think I don't know that?  I've been playing a lot longer than you have.}  Harry snorted at the blond's comment, keeping his eyes on the group in the air.  The second-year missed an easy save as Angelina, Alicia, and Katie deftly avoided the Bludgers.  {It's just not normal to have four Beaters trying to kill you instead of two of them trying to protect you.}

~That's the plan, mate.  Should get rid of the ones who wouldn't cut it in a real hurry.~  Harry was actually very pleased about that bit of brilliant thinking.  The twins had declared it to be "Wood's influence," but maybe a bit of Ron and Hermione was sneaking through.  Madam Pomfrey was on scene just in case, and she had declared it to be idiocy.  Oh well.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco fidgeted as he watched the Keeper trials.  A second-year, the first tested, had only blocked half the shots, missing some easy ones.  Ferren Buell, a third-year girl, had caught fifteen, and Ron seventeen.  The redhead was a shoe-in.  Buell would be the reserve.

He took a calming breath as he checked his gloves again.  Of course, he knew they were snug, but he was nervous.  Now that a Keeper had been chosen, he would be facing four insane Beaters and trying to score.  He carefully walled off his end of the bond in order to keep from being distracted as Angelina began to speak.

"Chasers will be working with Alicia and Katie.  You will be avoiding the Bludgers and trying to score on undefended goals.  First up is Draco Malfoy."  He stepped up when his name was called and mounted his new Firebolt, kicking smoothly off the firm, dry ground.

The next few minutes went by in a blur as he swerved and dodged the wild steel balls and the crazy players pursuing them, while catching and throwing the red Quaffle at the same time.  He had no idea of how many goals he made, nor even how many times he tried.  He only barely registered the whistle blowing to signal the end of his trial.  He landed as Ginny kicked off and stood for a moment, trying to catch his breath.  He noticed Harry writing on a sheet of parchment and checked his wall before sitting down in the stands.  For nearly twenty minutes he sat there, watching other students trying to manage the Quaffle.  A second-year named Natalie McDonald had been a dark blur on her old Cleansweep 4.  Surely there was some way she had modified the broom, upgraded it.  The Cleansweep series just wasn't built to do some of the things the mousy-haired wisp had done.

As the last candidate landed, Draco came out of his reflective stupor and dropped the walls around the bond.  He stood and joined the group of students near his friend and the Chasers, who were having a quick conference on the results.  He found himself standing next to McDonald, the girl nearly climbing her broom in excitement.

"You were really good, Draco," she commented off-hand in a voice that resembled a mouse's squeak.  "Some of the moves you pulled, well, I didn't know they were possible on a broom."

"You should have seen yourself.  What have you done to make that Cleansweep perform so well?"  Now that he could see the broom close up, it didn't look modified at all.  Well broken-in, but not modified.

"This?  It's me da's old broom.  He was a Chaser for Hufflepuff in his day.  Went up against James Potter several times at school, still says the bloke should've gone pro instead of becoming an Auror."  At the small girl's last statement, Draco turned and looked at her.

"Really?  Harry would love to hear about his parents…"  He left the sentence hanging.  True, Sirius and Remus might be better able to give real insight on James and Lily Potter, but another source might tell what acquaintances knew and thought of the couple.  Harry might want or need that perspective one day.

"All right, people, we have results."  Draco looked up at Harry and then back at the girl beside him.

"Er… Could we talk later?"  The girl nodded, her eyes on the Chasers.

"Our three reserve Chasers will be Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, and Natalie McDonald.  Now, if the Seeker hopefuls would please mount their brooms and get up in the air, we'll see who can catch the most golf balls."  Harry handed Draco a bucket of transfigured pebbles as the half dozen students flew into the middle of the pitch and gave a brief explanation.

"I used one of the Marauders' spells on these so that they will display the name of the person who catches them.  The Seekers know to drop them once they've caught them, and we'll count once all the golf balls are gone."  With that, Draco moved to another part of the pitch and began throwing when the whistle blew.

When all the balls had been thrown, gathered, and the catches tallied, little Dennis Creevey  was given the reserve Seeker position.  Out of hundreds of golf balls, he had managed to catch over forty.  With the Tyrbinn twins in line to take over from the Weasley twins, the reserve Chasers, Buell, and Creevey in the wings, Draco had a feeling that the Gryffindor Lions would be unbeatable for years to come.

How will the first Quidditch match go?  Who will the Lions be playing?  Will Severus figure out that Wen likes him?  Find out in the next chapter!

Hit the button and Review!

Beth Weasley


	15. In which there are potions, frustrations...

A/N- Yes, I know it's been a while since I updated, but Chapter 16 turned out to be very long, including what I think is the longest piece from Sev yet.  Big things will be happening soon, even though Endora keeps muttering about me being cliché and weird.  Oh well.  Thanks go out this chapter to Claws, Iniysa, Caz Malfoy (Well, denial isn't just a river in Egypt, you know.), Rei-Chan (I hope your arm gets better soon!), Jordan (Four Firebolts plus the ones on the reserves. ^.~), Endora, Ms. Padfoot, and Hrei-siesn.  You all are the best, and you help me keep writing!

Disclaimer:  I own nothing you recognise.  That stuff belongs to Ms. Rowling.  According to my calendar, there's only 48 more days until the real Order of the Phoenix comes out.  I can't wait!

Bonds of Pain

Chapter 15

In which there are potions, frustrations, and flirtations

Severus muttered to himself as he bent over one of the cauldrons in his private lab.  Due to the Pensieve of Voldemort-related experiences in Arabella's class, the students were treating him with respect for a change, instead of fear and hatred.  The Slytherins were, for once, thoroughly chagrined over their previous behaviour.  He now had free time to spend in his lab again.  Hagrid was already halfway through fifth-year work and making rapid progress.  Severus agreed with his colleagues that the half-giant would be ready for his OWLs at around Christmas.

 ~If only these potions would cooperate the way Hagrid is,~ he thought sourly.  He was once again working on a cure for lycanthropy, not for the sake of Remus Lupin, but for one of his own cousins.  Artemis Snape was a lovely young woman, about the same age as Bill Weasley, and had been home-taught magic because her parents would not put others in danger.

Severus had developed the Wolfsbane Potion so his aunt and uncle would be safer during the transformations, but he still wanted to stop Artemis' suffering completely.  Why did talented, kind people like his cousin have to be cursed in such a fashion?

Of course, now that Lupin was in the castle, he could do practical research again, experimenting with tiny variations in known aids.  He had tried more complex potions before, but perhaps the key was something simple.  Maybe even… Wait.

~Perhaps if I added a sample of the werewolf's fur to the Wolfsbane Potion, it would key it to the werewolf and provide a more permanent aid in subduing the wolf…~  He made a note of the inspiration and began evaluating it in his head.  He would be sure to collect some fur from Lupin during the next full moon.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry was about to beat his head in.  he didn't care that it was time for lunch, despite the rumblings of his stomach.  He had wandered into a seemingly deserted section of the castle—Fluffy's hallway—after Defence, and he was hitting his head against one of the columns.

Of course, he had a reason.  At the end of class, Professor Figg had asked him to stay behind.  The slender woman had nervously tied back her long, honey-coloured hair before speaking.

"I wanted to apologize to you, Harry.  I… I should have kept a closer eye on how those ruddy Muggles were treating you.  I should have noticed you were wearing that lard-ball's cast-offs when you were little.  I didn't even notice that you went from a happy, bouncy, burbling baby to a very quiet and withdrawn little boy.  Lils and Jamie should never have made me your godmother."

Harry was gobsmacked.  His godmother?  And what was she talking about, saying she should have noticed?  "Say what?"

"And to think, every time they sent you over to me, I bored you with pictures of _cats_.  Merlin, I don't even like cats, but I needed a cover to watch over you, and what better than an eccentric old cat lady?  Or so Dumbledore said.  I'm so sorry, Pronglet."

"'Pronglet?'"  His eyebrows disappeared under his bangs.

"That was Jamie, Remy, Petey, and Siri's nickname for you.  You do know they were the Marauders, right?"  At Harry's nod, she continued.  "Since you were Prongs' little boy, they dubbed you Pronglet until you became an Animagus."

"Ah."  He understood now.  What goofballs.  "Well, I'm working on that."  The slender professor, now seated atop one of the student desks, leaned towards him.

"Really?  Are the other members of the Dream Team learning as well?  What are they showing so far?"  Professor Figg sounded very eager to learn what their forms might be.

"Er, well… With the potion, I got a coat of black fur, and I've managed to get a cat's tail since.  Draco is some sort of albino snake:  his tongue changed this weekend, and he started speaking in Parseltongue.  Ron has golden fur and whiskers, and his hair gets a bit darker and shaggy.  I think I saw his ears go sort of round and furry the other night.  Lavender has rabbit ears and fur the same colour as her hair.  'Mione gets brown feathers, and her eyes go really big and round, and Gin gets red and brown feathers."  All of the girls were beginning to get smaller when they transformed, while Harry and Ron were gradually getting larger.

"Interesting.  Two felines, two birds, a snake, and a rabbit… I wonder why those particular forms.  Don't worry, I'll help you with code names once you've managed complete transformations.  Now run along, Pronglet.  You don't want to miss lunch!"  With that, the woman had disappeared into her office.

Harry had left and tried to get himself lost, but, of course, it hadn't worked.  At least most of the students still thought Fluffy's corridor was off-limits.

{What the hell are you doing, Potter?} Draco asked him.  Since they'd been working on the bond, they could bespeak each other anywhere on the grounds.  It helped when they got lost.

~I'm trying to beat my brains out.  What did you think?~

{No wonder I've a splitting headache.  Any particular reason you want to spread pink goo all over the castle?}  If he'd been there, Draco probably would have had his hands on his hips.

~You remember me telling you about Mrs. Figg the cat lady?  Professor Figg is one and the same.~  Harry started banging his head on the stone again.

{Oh.  So she was a witch and never told you.  Stop acting like dobby for a bit.  I'm bringing food.}  Draco's announcement was welcomed by more draconic growling from the black-haired boy's midriff.

~My life must be some sort of hell, designed to torture me at every turn,~ Harry mused, leaning against the pillar and closing his eyes.

{How can it be a hell when you have friends like the Dream Team?} Draco asked.  {Oh, by the way, the others are following me.  I think they're learning to tell when we bespeak each other.}  Just what he needed.  A pity party.

~Tell them to sod off.  I don't want their pity.  If they're all going to expect me to defeat Voldemort, then they should expect things like this!~  I took a while for the blond to respond, but Harry expected he was relaying the message.

"HARRY POTTER!!!"  Ginny's furious voice drifted in from the direction of the stairwell.  Obviously they were close.

~Will you tell Gin to pipe down?  I doubt she wants a detention from Filch for yelling in the halls.~  As he sent the thought, the redhead in question rounded the corner and spotted him.

"What the _hell_ is your problem this time?" she hissed.  Dear Merlin.  She sounded furious.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco rounded a corner to see the youngest member of the Dream Team chewing out her boyfriend.  Sure, Harry was his friend, but it was fun to see him squirm from time to time.  As Ginny ranted, the blond heard a clicking behind him.  He turned to see Snuffles sporting a wide doggy grin.

Smiling at the Animagus, Draco moved to allow him access to the corner between the wall and a column.  The dog winked with one mischievous blue eye before scrunching into the shadows.  As soon as he was out of danger of being spotted by wandering students, he transformed.

"Reminds me of James and Lily," Sirius commented.

"What, Harry getting all depressed and Gin yelling at him for it?" Draco asked, amused.  Sure, Harry was _acting_ all scared, but the bond was telling Draco that the ebon-haired Boy Wonder just wanted to kiss his girlfriend.  "Looks like I should just tell Miss Weasley when he gets like this."

"It's not the getting depressed part, it's the yelling part that's so similar.  What do you mean, just tell Ginny?"  Draco looked at his friend's godfather with one eyebrow raised.

"He's forgotten about being depressed and now just wants to kiss her.  She tends to have that sort of effect on him.  Plus he's not having nightmares about the Third Task anymore."

"Really?  Well, that's good.  I guess he's still having visions during attacks and meetings, though?"

Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  "Yeah.  He had one last night, in fact.  Another family of Muggles dead, and they're plotting to take Azkaban."

"Bloody hell.  Does Dumbledore know?"

Draco nodded.  Harry had been given a notebook that was connected to another in the headmaster's possession.  Whatever was written in one appeared in the other.  The two men, near opposites save the colour of their eyes, watched in silence for a few minutes.  When the pair they were observing locked lips, both of them chuckled.

"Didn't I see Snuffles flirting with Professor Figg the other morning?" Draco asked, and sly grin on his face.  Sirius went red and began to stutter, and the blond laughed.  "What?  Did you have something with her in school?  It looked like she recognised you."

"Er… well… yeah.  She knows about Padfoot.  Has for years."  The man was still red, and his eyes were on the floor.  "She, Lily, a Slytherin girl by the name of Altair, and a few other girls used to hang out together a lot, and the three of them knew about us being Animagi."  The ex-convict had the grace to blush further.

"It wouldn't be Wendolyn Altair, would it?  A little short, nondescript brown hair, hazel eyes?"  The description brought a sharp look from the older man.

"Exactly.  Where did you meet her?"  Draco Grinned.

"Muggle London.  She runs a shop called I Carry a Wand.  I think she's interested in Uncle Sev, but he seems to like your Ms. Figg."  When Sirius' countenance darkened in anger, Draco laughed and jabbed him in the ribs.  "From what I can see, you needn't worry.  I think she likes you as much as you her."  A ray of hope shimmered in the tropical sea of the Animagus' eyes, and Draco winked.  "Go get her, Padfoot."

With that, the hulking, black, blue-eyed dog disappeared down the corridor.  The blond revelled in the warm feeling he got from setting up couples that already liked each other.

Will Sev's idea with the Wolfsbane Potion work?  Is Voldemort going to move from Muggles to Muggle-borns anytime soon?  Will the Dream Team have a part in the coming war?  Find out next chapter!  Please review!

Beth Weasley


	16. In which there is romance, snogging, and...

A/N-  I'm back!  Yes, I know it's been something like two or three weeks since my last chapter, but I've been up to a lot, including moving home for the near future and starting a new job.  I've also had a bit of writer's block on Chapter 17, but I'm through that now and have gotten a lot done in the last four or five days with the help of Endora, my dear, appreciated beta!  *hugs Endora*  I have a huge section from Sev in this chapter for everyone, plus some action later!  I'm sorry if some of you thought last chapter was a bit boring, this one will be much better.  Massive thanks to all my reviewers… You know who you are!  All I ask is your feedback after you've read the chapter.  And now, without further ado…

Bonds of Pain

Chapter 16

In which there is romance (*wink*), snogging, and dancing, among other things.

~Is thirty-five too old to be having awkward thoughts about someone you've know most of your life?~ Severus asked himself.  In just a few visits with Wen, his feelings—and, embarrassingly, his dreams—had changed.  She was still his old friend, classmate, and confidante, but he frequently found himself tripping over words and, even worse, his own body when she was around.  When he noticed her in his thoughts—distressingly frequently—he could feel something inside him make a disturbing flopping motion.

Sure, he'd had the occasional heart-in-throat moment around Arabella in their school years, but this was worse.  Cor, was it worse.  The petite witch didn't even have to be around to cause his strange reactions; the mere thought of her set his heart racing.

Frustrated by the fact that his musings were getting him nowhere, he left the dungeons.  If he couldn't figure out this female problem on his own, maybe a legendary womanizer could help.  One disguised at the moment as a certain "lovable" Grim.  Thank Merlin it was a weekend.

It took the Potions Master nearly an hour to find the elusive convict.  Close to two and a half years on the run had taught Black to hide well.  At least he didn't look as scrawny and mangy as he had in the Hospital Wing four months earlier.

"I need to talk to you," Severus growled softly as he passed "Snuffles" in the Charms corridor.  "My office, twenty minutes.  Please."  Merlin, that word hurt.  Especially saying it to the man who had nearly gotten him killed—or worse, cursed—so many years ago.

Fortunately, Black merely nodded and disappeared around a corner.  Bloody hell, how was he going to pull this off and maintain even a shred of his dignity?  It was hard enough to even be civil to the man, let alone ask for advice on _women_.  Black would have a field day.  He'd tell his godson, for sure.

Eighteen minutes later, Severus was in his office, mentally berating himself, when a sharp bark announced his visitor.  A flick of his wand opened the door, and the Grim slipped in, transforming once the wooden barrier was closed and locked with another spell.  No one would be able to barge in unexpectedly, nor could they eavesdrop.

"Black."  A nod in the other man's direction, face carefully kept blank of emotion.

"Snape."  The greeting was returned with the same studied neutrality.  "You wanted to see me?"  Severus simply nodded in response and stood, beckoning his school rival to follow him through another door behind his desk.

The lean man smiled wryly when he heard the convict gasp as they entered the parlour of his private quarters.  The informal room was decorated in pale green and silver, with blond wood in all the furniture.  A fire crackled on the granite hearth and was surrounded by a set of plush green velvet chairs and a matching settee.  Seeing the surprised and speculative look on his guest's face, Severus sighed.

"I… did not ask you here on a business matter, Mr. Black, nor on an Order agenda.  Would you like tea, biscuits, or scones?"  He could have laughed at the childlike look on the former Gryffindor's face.

"They're not dog biscuits, are they?" the man asked.  Severus must have looked confused, because he was immediately given an explanation.  "Moony will ask me that and then serve me a tray of dog biscuits.  He ruddy well thinks it's hilarious."  Severus laughed.  A short laugh, but still honestly humoured.

"No dog treats in my kitchen.  If, however, you want some…"  Severus waited for Black's grimace and was well rewarded.

"That's not necessary.  Tea, biscuits, and scones would be nice, though.  It's been ages since I had a decent cuppa."  Shrugging, Severus moved into his kitchen to start a pot as Black moved to look at his extensive private library.

"Milk or sugar?" he called as the tea steeped.  Contrary to popular opinion, he took both.

"Both, please," was the reply.  Amazing.  One thing they had in common, and neither had yet made a snide remark.  Even better, they were both being polite.  Pulling a large tray from the cupboard, the Potions Master placed on it full tea service for two, a plate of chocolate biscuits, and a basket full of fresh raspberry scones, courtesy of the house-elves.  He made sure the milk and teapot were unlikely to spill before lifting the tray and venturing back into his parlour.

~Mother of Merlin, he's managed not to damage anything.~  In contrast to his fears, his one-time nemesis was perusing his collection almost eagerly.  "Find anything that interests you?"  The other man's head whipped around, panic briefly showing on his face before he relaxed.  Maybe two and a half years running, on top of twelve in Azkaban—dreadful, horrible, hellish Azkaban—was too much.

"Well, I _am_ surprised you have a copy of Subtle Hexes.  You do realise I helped write it, along with Prongs" –the clear tenor hitched on the nickname—"and Moony?"  Severus harrumphed.

"I found out about _Wormtail_ too late, unfortunately.  I never knew who the informant was, not until we met to go there."  By there, he meant Godric's Hollow.  The flash of pain on the other visage told hi that his guest saw his meaning.  "I couldn't find Albus in time to prevent Fudge from… well, you know.  When I saw that amusing note about him being a test subject, I had to have it.  I _hate_ the cowardly bastard…"  He scowled into nothingness, half hoping the rat would keel over at that moment.

"Aye,"  growled the man sitting across from him.  Black had nearly disappeared in one of the deep wing chairs.  Severus began to serve the tea in hopes of calming himself.  A few minutes passed in relative silence.

"Look, Sn—Severus.  I want to apologize for the Whomping Willow incident that time.  Remus and James raised Cain for weeks after, and it was far worse than anything Dumbledore could have done.  When we met a year and a half ago, I was bitter and not myself, especially with the Dementors so near.  Even at the end of last term, I was so worried about Harry…"  Yes, the boy had been in terrible condition.  Of course his godfather had been worried.  "This is the first time since that I've had a chance to talk to you with my ruddy head on straight and nothing messing with it, and I want to say I'm sorry."

Well surprise, surprise.  Black had not only used his given name, but he had apologized as well.  He had never expected this.  Severus sipped at his tea for a moment before coming to his own decision.

"Bl—Sirius, I'm not quite sure how to say this."  He paused and took a deep breath.  "  If you are willing, then I, too, will let bygones be bygones.  After all, if Draco and Harry can come to peace, so can we."  He offered his right hand to the ex-convict and was surprised by the warm handshake he received in return.

"Maybe we could actually be friends.  Eventually."  Sirius had a wry smile on his face.  Where did that cynicism come from?  Azkaban?

"Maybe.  Er… about wanting to talk to you…  You were rumoured to be quite the ladies' man in school."  The other man had the grace to blush.

"Well, not really, but I do have a tendency to know what they like and how to get into their good books."  ~Oh ho.  This could be even more useful than I thought.~  "Interested in someone?"

"Eh… I think so."  Dear Merlin, this would be _so_ embarrassing.  "Do you remember Wen Altair?  Slytherin in our year, short with brown hair?"  The Animagus nodded, grinning as if he'd just eaten a stone of chocolate.

"Yes, a certain someone reminded me of her just this week.  Why do you say you think so?"  Damn him.  He looked even more gleeful, if that was possible.  The man knew something.  He should have been a Slytherin.

"Uh, well…" Severus stuttered.  "My stomach seems to flop constantly when I'm around her, I trip over everything, and nothing comes out of my mouth quite right.  Just thinking of her sends my heart into palpitations."  He could feel his face burning.  Sirius, on the other hand, was grinning like the cat who'd been in the cream.

"You have it bad."  Severus' next question must have shown in his eyes.  "Yes, it is possible to fall in love at this age.  The ladies, however, often do so earlier.  From what I recall seeing at school and what Ara tells me, Ms. Altair is quite interested in you.  Perhaps she would enjoy being invited to dinner at a nice restaurant.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For a change, Harry was by himself, walking along the Charms corridor to Remus Lupin's quarters.  He knew his godfather was being housed nearby as well, but today he wanted to see Remus, not Sirius.  In fact, he was after information on lycanthropy for Professor Figg's class.  She was working the fifth years mercilessly to make up for the faulty teachings of Lockhart and Crouch..

October was drawing to a close as the Gryffindors finished the creatures portion of the material for their Defence OWL.  Werewolves and vampires were the last, and Professor Figg had mentioned that Professor Snape could be near a breakthrough in his research towards a cure for the former condition.  When she had assigned a three-foot essay on one of the two Cursed Creatures (as she termed them instead of Dark Creatures), Harry had known that Remus would be a perfect source.

Harry's essay, of course, would cast Cursed Creatures in a much more positive light than normal superstition and stereotypes—wizarding and Muggle alike—usually portrayed.  Remus had said before that he would rather die than inflict his curse upon another, and the man was most definitely not a murderer.  At least when it was someone other than "that rat," as Pettigrew had been dubbed.

Thinking of the Marauders reminded Harry that he had not seen Snuffles in a while.  True, the man had a life of his own, but Harry hoped he wasn't off snogging Professor Figg in a broom closet somewhere.  The mental image made him shudder.

"Remus?" he called, knocking on the werewolf's door.  No answer.  "Are you in?"  Still nothing.  Harry cautiously opened the door.  Maybe Lavender was right.  She had said before he left the common room that it might not be a good time to visit the former professor.

"Uncle Remy?"  The pet name he used seemed familiar, as if he'd used it for the man before.  He rounded the corner between the entry and the parlour of the suite and nearly ran from what he saw.

"Bloody hell!  My eyes, my eyes!!!"  Covering said eyes, Harry tried in vain to purge the visual from his short-term memory.  Rita Skeeter on Remus' lap, both of them involved in a very _thorough_ make-out session.  Eurgh.

"Harry?!"

"Mr. Potter?!"  The voices sounded chagrined, and Harry risked peeking through his fingers.  Remus was now by himself on the settee, and Draco's aunt was in a nearby chair.  Both were blushing.

"I don't believe this.  First I have to watch out for Sirius and Professor Figg doing that sort of thing, and now I'll have to have a weather eye on you two as well.  I ought to tell Draco."  The reporter's eyes went wide, and Remus blushed harder.  They looked thoroughly embarrassed that he had walked in on them, and Harry chuckled.  "So how's your article about my godfather coming, Ms. Skeeter?"  What fun.  He would be able to rib them about this for weeks, maybe even months.

"Well, I was speaking with Remus about it, but we got a trifle distracted."  Pink tinged the woman's cheeks again, and Harry grinned more widely.  "Has Dumbledore announced his Halloween ball to the student body yet?"

"Oh God, not another ruddy ball," Harry moaned.  Last year had been plenty for him when it came to formal dances.  He'd have to get Draco to teach him how to dance so he didn't look like an idiot again.

~Draco, has anyone mentioned a ball to you?~ he asked, bespeaking his blond friend.

{There have been a few rumours about one on Halloween, yes.  Why?}

~Your aunt just asked me if Dumbledore had announced it yet.  I'm afraid Ron and I will need dancing lessons.~

{Merlin.  Why couldn't the barmy old coot have said something earlier?}  The slightly older boy sounded dismayed.  {It's awfully difficult to teach ballroom dancing to complete novices in a week and a half.}  Harry sighed and raked a hand through his unruly mane.

~Thanks, mate.  You can do it.  I may go and give him a piece of my mind.~  He mock-glared at the two adults in the room.  "At least you've given us some warning now.  Draco needs it so he can hold dance classes.  It's good that next weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend, because I know my dress robes are too small for me to wear again."  The dark-haired boy frowned at the werewolf.  "I was going to ask you some questions for the essay Professor Figg assigned us, but I'll come back later since you're _busy_."  Turning, he left the room and headed for the library.  Sure, the books there would be bigoted, but they still contained gems of valid information.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"No, Ron, it's _one_, two, three, not one, _two_, three."  Draco pinched the bridge of his nose before taking Lavender in his arms again to demonstrate a proper waltz.  "Watch my feet.  Once you have the beat properly, it shouldn't be too hard."  He flicked his wand to start the music again.  The honey-haired girl he held could weigh no more than a feather, she was so light on her feet.

~Harry, I need to be swatted again.  I'm waxing poetic about dancing with Lav.~  The shortening of the girl's name had caught quickly, and there were few who used her full name anymore.

Harry chuckled at his comment, and Draco felt himself redden.  Damn him.  Famous Potter was matchmaking.  Of course, it wasn't as if Draco didn't like Lav.  On the contrary, he liked her very much.  He simply wasn't sure she liked him back.

"You see, my largest step is always on the first beat of the measure.  The other two steps are smaller and can be used to avoid other couples on the dance floor."  Since this was the first dance lesson of many for Harry, Ron, and Ginny,  Draco was explaining the basics.  Of course, having two talented and trained assistants helping simplified things a bit.  Hermione and Lav could partner the other two boys when Draco taught Ginny to follow.

Two hours later, the Dream Team left their empty classroom, footsore and somewhat tired of waltzes.

"I never thought I'd be so sick of classical music," Ginny groaned.  Draco was willing to admit to himself that she was the most apt student of the trio, learning to interpret his movements quickly.

Harry and Ron simply moaned and limped in the general direction of Gryffindor Tower.  They had eventually figured things out despite their lack of rhythm.  Harry was surprisingly nimble, but, then again, he wasn't the House Seeker for nothing.

Suddenly Lav stumbled next to him.  Draco turned and caught her by the shoulders.  The slender girl had her hands clamped to her temples and her eyes squeezed shut.

"Lav, what's wrong?  How can I help?"  Draco felt worry from Harry's end of their bond but ignored his friend for the moment.

"Parchment… write what I say," Lavender grated.  Hermione, ever studious, pulled a small Muggle notebook and an odd Muggle quill from a pocket.  Lavender went stiff, her voice strangely deep and masculine.

            "Dreamers fight against the dark,

            Six are wary of the mark.

            All will fight, but five have fought,

            Old for their years, innocence lost.

            One changes and two reveals,

            Three rages while four heals,

            Five with knowledge for the fight,

            And six who lives to shine the Light.

            Saviours these, courageous all.

            Cherish them, lest they fall."

As Lavender finished speaking, she slumped bonelessly into Draco's embrace.  He carefully slipped and arm under her knees and lifted her.  She really was that light, it wasn't just the fact that she was graceful.

"Did you get it all, 'Mione?" Ron asked.  The brown-haired girl nodded as she capped the Muggle quill.

"That was quite similar to the prediction Trelawney had during my final in third year," Harry mused aloud.  "We should tell Dumbledore.  Now."  The others nodded in agreement, and they all about-faced and headed for the gargoyle.  To everyone's surprise, "Starburst" was no longer the password.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans."  No response.

"Canary Cremes."

"Sugar Quill."

"Ton-Tongue Toffee."  The gargoyle jumped aside to reveal the moving stairs.

"Figures he'd use one of Gred and Forge's trick sweets," Ron muttered as the stairs carried them to the headmaster's door.  The door was opened as soon as Harry knocked.

"Ah, the Dream Team."  Uncle Sev was visiting Dumbledore?  "Well, don't stand there gawking at me, come in.  Did something happen to Miss Brown?"  Draco nodded as he slipped in sideways, being careful not to bump Lav on the door jamb.  He carefully settled the girl in one of the headmaster's armchairs before crouching beside it to steady her.

"She gave a prophecy, we think," Ginny said, her eyes firmly on the old wizard behind the desk.  "Harry commented that it sounded a bit like one Professor Trelawney gave during his third year final."  Dumbledore nodded sagely and looked at Hermione.

"Did you write down what she said?" he inquired.  The girl nodded and held out her notebook, still open to the lines she had copied.  The wizened man took the pad and read, humming thoughtfully under his breath.

"It was a man's voice," Draco offered from his kneeling position.  The headmaster nodded and fingered his beard.  The Potions Master read over his mentor's shoulder, soon quirking an eyebrow and eyeing the unconscious blonde in a considering fashion.

"Interesting," the older man rumbled.  "Have you deciphered any of it yet?"  Hermione, of course, straightened, immediately in recital mode.

"It's a group of six, and five of them have been in danger or fought the Dark before.  One has made a drastic change, perhaps in attitude or opinion, or even alignment in the fight.  The second has been hiding something, maybe an ability.  The third has a fierce temper, and the fourth might have healing skills, perhaps even magical ones.  The fifth is surely someone who knows a great deal, and the sixth is some sort of symbol for the Light, or even why the side of the Light has the courage to fight at all.  The group has, of course, been involved in matters older people would balk at.  The final couplet is a warning about their welfare and the potential that they might fail if they are not cared for."  Dumbledore smiled as Draco's godfather scowled, and Hermione positively beamed.

"Very good, Miss Granger.  Five points to Gryffindor.  Have any of you given thought to who the six Dreamers might be?"  They all shook their heads.  The blue eyes twinkled behind the half-moon spectacles, and Draco shivered.  The old man could be decidedly creepy.

~He knows something we don't, mate.~  Draco glanced at his green-eyed friend to see the other's brow furrowed.

{He knows something important, I think.  And he's enjoying watching us squirm as we try to figure it out.}  The Seeker scowled at the headmaster, who flinched before copying the ten lines and giving the notebook back to Hermione.

"I need to speak to Harry and Draco alone for a few minutes.  If you would please return to Gryffindor Tower, I will send them up when we have finished.  In the meantime, feel free to work on that prophecy."  Dumbledore lifted a hand to indicate the door.  Ron gently lifted Lavender from her seat as Draco watched anxiously.  The girl didn't stir, and the four students were followed out the door by his Uncle Sev, who closed the door quietly behind him.

"Harry, after the incident with Professor Quirrell and the Philosopher's Stone in your first year, I told you there were things about your family I would tell you when you were older.  Draco, I'm sure your mother had promised to inform you of the lineage you bear from her side of the family.  I believe now is the time for both of you to receive the knowledge that has been held in trust for you so long."  Draco looked at his black-haired friend before nodding.  Harry, too, gestured for the headmaster to continue.

The elderly wizard stood and lifted from a shelf the silver sword Draco had noticed before he was resorted.  "Harry, I once told you that only a true Gryffindor could cause the Sorting Hat to give them this blade.  I meant it in the most literal sense.  Your father's family descended from Godric himself.  Your mother, however, wasn't a true Muggle-born witch.  Her grandfather was an orphaned Squib and the last known descendant of Merlin until your grandmother was born.  Voldemort found out the truth of your ancestry and assumed that your father was the source of both bloodlines, and therefore he believed that Lily did not have to die.  In truth, it was partially the power she inherited from Merlin's line that saved your life that night."  Draco could sense Harry's shock and looked at his friend.  The other boy was white as a sheet.

"Draco, I take it you know which House your mother was in during her years under my tutelage?"  The blond looked at the bearded man in bewilderment.

"Well, actually, no."  He had always assumed she had been in Slytherin, but she'd spoken very well of Ravenclaw and of the Snake House seldom.  The headmaster sighed.

"Lucius, no doubt.  I should have done something to prevent that match.  Alas, the past is past, and there is nothing I can do about it.  Narcissa was in Ravenclaw, and one of the best students in decades.  Many of her relatives were also in that House.  Due to several factors, you are the last living member of  that line with control of your mental facilities, as it were.  As with Harry, Voldemort murdered much of your family, save those he thought he could control.  Your uncle Gilderoy was corrupted by his abilities with memory charms and his overweening pride, and your mother was wed to a member of his Inner Circle.  They alone were spared from the purge."  As the old wizard spoke, Draco caught a strange look from Harry.

{Lockhart was your uncle?  I feel sorry for you.}  Draco merely rolled his eyes.

"Unfortunately, all of Hufflepuff's descendants were slaughtered.  To the smallest child, they remained staunchly loyal to the Light, as befits such a noble House.  You two gentlemen, guided by Miss Brown's visions—which are real, as she is the most reliable Seer in generations—and backed by your 'Dream Team,' could be a great asset in this war."  The elderly wizard folded his hands.  "Any questions?"

Like Dumbles said, any questions?

Review with them and/or suggestions, comments, et cetera!

Beth Weasley


	17. In which there are many discoveries

A/N-  Woo!  I am definitely past my little writer's block, news I know many of you are glad to hear.  I've discovered that my muse is on duty mostly between the hours of 1 am and 5 am, but that's not too bad, as work is in the evenings and I can come home and write.  When I started posting this over two months ago, I thought I'd be getting all kinds of bad reviews, but, as you can see if you take a look, none of the hundred-odd reviews are bad.  Claws, I'm sorry you got a bit bored, but I agree, Fifteen was the worst chapter so far.  I've been in a whirlwind of writing lately, and Eighteen may follow close on this chapter's heels.  Read on and ENJOY!!!

Bonds of Pain

Chapter 17

In which there are many discoveries

Severus snarled to himself as he made for the dungeons.  Poppy Pomfrey had asked him to brew more Pepper-Up Potion for the infirmary stores recently, and potion-brewing would calm him.  He had been speaking to Albus about Hagrid's tutoring when the Dream Team came in.  Draco's treatment of Miss Brown had truly surprised him.  The young man had been tender and careful with the unconscious Muggle-born witch, an attitude the Potions Master had only seen his godson take in the presence of his mother and absence of Lucius.

The gaunt man found himself with tears in his eyes at the thought of Narcissa.  Between the way her husband treated her during term and her beloved son's torture in the next three weeks, the former Ravenclaw had taken leave of her senses.  After Lucius' arrest, Aurors combing the Manor had found the strikingly beautiful woman gibbering on her bed.  She now resided at St. Mungo's where the staff had experience in treating traumas similar to hers.

While Severus doubted that the strict and secretive Lucius had allowed his wife to tell their son of his grand heritage from her side of the family before the boy had received the Dark Mark, he was equally sure the headmaster would be telling him now.  The war effort might depend on the children he taught, as little as he wanted to admit to the fact.  Albus had finished explaining the lineage of both his godson and Potter  less than half an hour before the Dream Team had interrupted with their prophecy.

He didn't really believe in divination, but when a strange voice came from a person in cryptic sentences, he took notice.  If Miss Brown really had spoken with a male voice, delivering the lines he had seen over his mentor's shoulder, then a search for the six Dreamers was in order.  Because the Order of the Phoenix was to meet that evening, he suspected Albus would ask then for help in the quest.

Severus shook his head.  There was just over a week before Halloween, and the full moon landed the day before.  Lupin would need to begin taking the Wolfsbane Potion the next day for the full effect, and it needed to be brewed tonight, especially if he was going to test his fur theory.  At least he could Floo to his manor in Greece and test the potion with his computer.  A former student who specialized in Muggles electronics had helped him develop the program and the probes that would test magical properties without risking lives.  As Hagrid was learning under Minerva this evening, he would be free to do all the brewing and testing he needed.  Lupin's data was stored on the computer, and all that was needed was the potion and the fur.

Two hours later, Severus filled a large flask with a portion of the completed potion and sealed it, pouring a bit of wax over the cork for safety.  A phial of grizzled werewolf fur—Lupin's, of course—went into an inner pocket.  Stepping through the Floo Network into his villa, he took a deep breath and savoured the salty Mediterranean air.  He had inherited the house and island, but the locale had been one of his favourites since childhood.  He looked out a window at the sheltered beach and the multicoloured sunset before entering the lab to boot up the Muggle contraption.

~Twenty years ago, I would have scoffed at the idea of Muggles inventing something so ingenious without the aid of magic, but they did,~ he thought.  While his classes would be vastly enhanced through the use of computers, Severus knew the machines could not work in the magical environment that was the castle.

A clean beaker on the table before him, he decanted a bit of the smoking potion into it, followed by four carefully selected hairs from the phial.  A light swirl changed the colour from a smoky violet to a deep indigo, still smoking.  Satisfied that his results were as predicted, Severus inserted the proper sensor and started the intricate program.  With nothing to do until the test was finished, the Potions Master moved to the kitchen and retrieved a Pepsi form the icebox before retreating to a comfortable seat on the balcony, where he watched the waxing moon rise.

He was woken from a light doze by the insistent chirping from the computer that signified the end of the test.  Crossing his fingers and hoping for luck, Severus rose to check the results.  Blinking on the screen were two phrases that caused Severus Snape, dour Potions Master and most feared teacher at Hogwarts, to whoop in joy.

                        _TESTING COMPLETE._

_                        SUBJECT ON FILE CURED OF LYCANTHROPY._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You're not joshing?" Harry asked the headmaster.  He could hardly believe what he was hearing.  Himself the heir of both Merlin and Gryffindor?  And Draco the heir of Ravenclaw?  This was beyond bizarre.  The blond to his right looked equally stunned, but just to be sure, he pinched himself.  "Ow."

"No, Harry, I am not.  I only hope that the two of you and the Dreamers from Miss Brown's prophecy will be able to defeat Voldemort.  As Harry has lately seen in his visions, Voldemort is rapidly gaining power.  It is my sincerest hope that you and the Dreamers will be ready when the time comes to fight."

Harry frowned, and the gleam of Gryffindor's sword on his lap caught his eye.  ~We didn't tell him about our weapons training, did we?~ he asked his friend.  The paler boy gave a tiny shake of his head.  "Sir, we have to admit we're a tad ahead of you there.  We—the Dream Team, that is—purchased armaments during the first Hogsmeade weekend, and we've been practicing with them ever since."  He blushed and ducked his head, half-expecting to be reprimanded for acting without approval.

"Really?  Excellent use of your own judgement and initiative, gentlemen.  One less thing for us to do in preparation.  May I see these weapons?"  Draco nodded and reached into his robes as Harry moved his own to unbuckle the daggers and their belt.  The dark-haired boy carefully laid blades, scabbards, and belt on the desk as Draco murmured a spell and his sword grew to full size in his hands.  Dumbledore pushed his half-moon spectacles higher on his nose ad he peered at first the giant sword and then the vicious-looking daggers.

"Interesting.  These both look very familiar, for some reason.  Follow me, please."  The bearded man stood and tipped a book near where Gryffindor's sword had lain.  The shelves moved to reveal a set of rooms that seemed to be Dumbledore's private abode.  Harry carefully held his daggers and the slivery sword , and Draco swung his sword-belt across his torso, the meter of blade in its proper place slanting over his back.

Inside the rooms, the silver-haired wizard stopped them before a large canvas in the second room.  The painting was empty at the moment, save for four closed doors bearing familiar colours.  Each was subtly trimmed in the combination of one of the four Houses.  Dumbledore rapped gently on the frame of the portrait before calling out.

"Godric?  Rowena?  Could I speak to you for a few minutes?"  In response, the red-and-gold door cracked open and a head appeared.  Harry only registered bright blue eyes and tousled black hair before the painted wizard spoke.

"Albus!  Good to see you again, old chap.  A question, you say?"  As the wizard stepped into the painting from behind the door, the green-eyed young man could clearly see the Sword of Gryffindor over his shoulder.  This, then, must be his ancestor, Godric Gryffindor.  Moments later, a blonde witch opened the blue-and-bronze portal.

"Good evening, Albus," she said stiffly.  "May I ask who these two young gentlemen are?"  The woman gave Harry a brief, piercing look that sent shivers down his spine before she fixed Draco with a stare.  Dumbledore just smiled.

"The young man holding your sword, Godric, is Harry Potter, your heir and also Merlin's.  The other is Draco Malfoy, the last of Rowena's line.  Actually, my question is about your favoured arms."  Godric seemed to stop listening after the mention of Harry being his descendant.

"Really.  I must say, Harry, it looks like you inherited the family hair, as well as having my sword."  The legendary wizard ran a careless hand through his own coal-black lock before reaching back over his shoulder to lightly caress the hilt of his painted sword.

"Yes.  I told you Harry withdrew it from the Sorting Hat in his second year to defeat the basilisk in Salazar's Chamber.  I wanted to know if you recognized these."  Dumbledore carefully drew one of the daggers and held it up towards the portrait.

"Powers above!  Albus, I lost those just a year before this picture was painted!  My other self kept looking for them until the day he died.  Of course I recognize them.  They took months to forge, and then there's the time it took for all those enchantments.  I'm so glad they've been found at last."  Harry gaped.  The storekeeper's rumour had been truth:  they _were_ Gryffindor's.

"I was hoping that was the case," the headmaster said, smiling.  "I only saw them for the first time a few minutes ago.  Harry might need to know about those enchantments later."  Handing back the dagger, the wizened wizard turned to Draco as Harry replaced the red leather belt around his hips.  When the headmaster bared the blade of Draco's sword, Rowena Ravenclaw's portrait gave voice to a very undignified squawk.

"That's my sword!  Goddess of the Woods, I thought my other self would lose her mind when it disappeared.  With the work she put into it, I don't blame her, either.  It took _forever_ to find good quality blue leather in the right shade."  Harry could see Dumbledore's moustache twitch in amusement.  Evidently the old man was trying not to laugh.

"Wonderful.  Godric, I take it Harry has your blessing to carry both the daggers and your sword?  And, Rowena, you don't mind Draco bearing your sword?"

"Of course I don't mind, Albus.  He's my heir after all.  Just be careful with it, young man.  I'll help Albus make a list of the charms on it for you to study."  The painted blonde reminded Harry strongly of Hermione.  He was surprised when his friend swept into a graceful bow.

"Of course, my lady."  The old smooth tones from their second meeting—but first officially—crept into the blond's voice.  "It has been a great pleasure to meet you."  Draco winked at Harry when he straightened.  Realizing what he was supposed to do, he tried to copy his friend.

"A great honour, my lady Ravenclaw, my lord Gryffindor."  He wobbled a bit, but "the Wonder boy of the wizarding world" kept from falling.

{Well, that was… intriguing,} Draco mused once they had left the tower.  They were again on their way towards Gryffindor Tower, and this time they would not be turned aside.

~Absolutely, mate.  Gryffindor must have done something truly sneaky to hide those enchantments, whatever they are.  Even someone who finds them on objects for a living couldn't see them.~  Harry was insisting on a mental conversation to assure they would not be overheard.  He had a vaguely unsettled feeling, as if his subconscious was warning him of some danger.

{You know, you're transmitting that irritating feeling.  Maybe it's some sort of sixth sense.}  Crabbe and Goyle lumbered past, glowering at the paler boy before crashing into a suit of armour because they weren't looking where they were going.  Both Harry and Draco had to stifle guffaws as the armour proceeded to give the two lumps a sound thrashing, chasing them down the hall.

~You could be right.  Shall we go to the library after dinner?~

{Of course.  Bring the Cloak, though, we may need it to get into the Restricted Section.}  Harry rolled his eyes at the blond's comment.

~You want to see if you can find the really dangerous information on sixth senses, you mean.~  His companion merely smirked.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco growled to himself and shut the book in front of him with a dust-filled **snap!**  They would have to check the Restricted Section after all, as none of the books they had found in the stacks had any worthwhile information.

Lav had roused just before dinner and was feeling quite herself now that the prophecy had been delivered.  Ron and 'Mione had disappeared after the meal, no doubt to find themselves a secluded nook.  Ginny had dragged Lav up to the girls' dormitories over some cosmetic, leaving the two boys free to ransack the library.

"Madam Pince," the blond murmured as he approached the circulation desk, "I'd like  to do some research in the Restricted Section, if I may."  He expected a blunt refusal, but it never hurt to ask.

"Help yourself, Mr. Malfoy," the librarian replied, much to his shock.  She must have seen his face, despite remaining engrossed in a thick tome.  "The headmaster has requested that I give you and the rest of your little gang unlimited access."  Looking up, the woman pierced him with a glare.  "However, damage to any book is, as usual, intolerable.  Harm one page, and I will do my utmost to have you banned from this facility."  Draco simply nodded in acquiescence and strode to the dark, fenced-off shelves.

Ten minutes later, e normally dignified young man was doing his best not to throw a temper tantrum.  There was no system in this section of the library at all!  The books were, of course, chained to the shelves, but they were in no particular order.  _Moste Potente Potions_ sat to the left of a volume on ancient runic systems, and on the other side was a book of classic and complex rituals.  He had half a mind to just remove the chains, sort the mouldy tomes by subject himself, and then reattach the chains.  Perhaps Madam Pince would appreciate his reorganization.

Suddenly, three feet from _Moste Potente Potions_, the blond found a helpful book.  He carefully copied the entire text on sensory divination and reshelved the moulding original before quietly exiting the cordoned-off stacks and sitting across the table from his raven-haired friend.

"I think this will help," he whispered, depositing the sheaf of parchment between them.  The top sheet, serving as a title page, read _Sensory Divination for Imbeciles_.  He raised one eyebrow on hearing a snort of suppressed laughter from the Boy Wonder.

"_Sensory Divination for Dummies_?" the other queried.  "There's a whole series of Muggle books on various subjects that are 'for Dummies'.  I wonder if the author is one of us… a wizard or witch, I mean."  Harry's shoulders shook with silent laughter.

"Oh.  Wait a tick, are these books bright yellow and black with a cartoon bloke on them?"  The Malfoy heir had seen one thick tome by that description in Lucius' private library before.  It had been entitled _Dark Torture for Dummies_.

"Mmm-hmm.  Didn't know you'd been to a Muggle library or bookstore before."

"I haven't.  I'm willing to wager that not only was the author magical, but he or she walks on the darker side of our world as well."

"That would explain why the instructions in the Muggle books don't always work right."  The younger boy rolled his eyes.  He must have had personal experience.  Draco shuddered at the thought that the author of the Dummies books might have written the one he had just copied.  Undoubtedly, the author was still around.  Then he blinked as several random bits in his head connected.

"I just had the most unsettling thought.  What if the Dummies author wrote this book, and he's still around?"  He gave his friend a worried look, met by a shocked glance before Harry shifted the parchment between them so he could read.  A few sheets turned to reveal the publishing information.

"Nineteen forty-six, Tom M. Riddle.  Damn!  This can't be right…"  Not understanding the babble, Draco settled for staring blankly at his friend.  The green eyes caught the stare briefly before an explanation began.

"Back in forty-two, the Chamber of Secrets was opened for the first time since Salazar Slytherin left the school.  Tom Riddle supposedly caught the culprit, fingering Hagrid and getting him expelled.  A Muggle-born girl was killed just before Tom 'caught' Hagrid.  Tom was in sixth year at the time, I believe.  He got an award for special services to the school and was told to keep his mouth shut.  But here's the rub."  Grabbing a scarp of parchment and one of his strange pens with a metal quill tip, the Seeker scrawled a name.

            _TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE_

"He later scrambled the letters of his full name to give himself an alias that would strike fear into the hearts of his enemies and make most people fear and obey him."  The dark boy wrote again, below the first name.

            _I AM LORD VOLDEMORT_

"Get it?  Mouldywarts himself wrote this book, two years after he graduated _and_ three years after he opened the Chamber, framed Hagrid, and _killed Moaning Myrtle_."

It took a few seconds for the new information to sink in.  So much was causing him to shift previous knowledge and slowed his synapses a fraction.  Then the last phrase hit him.

"So his first kill was Myrtle…  Have you told her?  I mean, that Mouldy killed her?  She might go haunt him instead of the girls' loo.  Dunno why she's there in particular."  He'd never figured that, and he wasn't about to go in there and ask the shade.

"She died there."  The frank statement made Draco blink.  "The entrance to the Chamber is in the sinks, and she looked out of a stall straight into the eyes of Mouldy's basilisk.  I told you about killing it in second year."

"Oh."  He would have to check his reference on ghosts, but they might be able to persuade Myrtle to haunt her killer instead of the locale where she died.  He told Harry as much.  "If we _can_ get her to go after Mouldywarts, she might be willing to spy on him for us.  Merlin knows we need good information that Uncle Sev can't bring us anymore."  As he watched, Harry's lips curled into a truly devious smirk, sending the hairs on the back of the blond's neck straight up.  That look on his friend's face was frightening.

What did Rowena and Godric do to their weapons?  What will Myrtle say to Harry and Draco's suggestion?  Find out next chapter!

Review, please!

Beth Weasley


	18. In which there are potions, a bird, and ...

A/N- Wow. Two chapters in one week. I'm on a roll, here, people. Plus, if ff.net hadn't been acting up, last chapter would have been up on the 12th. Oh, well. Anyway, thanks to all my reviewers. Due to your encouragement, I've decided to take some creative writing classes, and I may try to break into the real writing world eventually, though that will be under my real name. I'll let you know what happens with that! Now, on with the story!  
  
Bonds of Pain  
  
Chapter Eighteen  
  
In which there are potions, a bird, and a Chamber  
  
Severus was in Lecture Mode. The Monday morning class of fifth-year Slytherins and Gryffindors should have been taking notes on the Frateris potion, but the Dream Team was the only group in the classroom with their quills moving. Granger, Brown, and Potter had fountain pens instead of quills, of course, as it was easier for them, but it was better than them getting ink all over their fingers and using a quill.  
  
"When used with the proper incantation, this draught will form a bond between the drinkers. The strength of the bond depends on the nature of the relationship beforehand. Enemies tend to hate each other more. Casual acquaintances and friends by association face little to no change at all. Good friends become closer, more towards best friends. Best friends will become like siblings, some even sharing telepathic bonds from the potion. Lovers either become nearly inseparable with a telepathic link, or they are driven apart by doubts and lies. Soulmates share the most dramatic change. They have been reported to be able to pinpoint each other around the globe, share telepathy, sometimes even telekinesis and wandless magic, and there is nothing that can come between them afterwards." Uh oh. The Dream Team was exchanging glances Severus recognized from his time as the target of the Marauders. They wanted to make the draught and try it themselves. Well, at least the only desk covered in inkblots would be Longbottom's.  
  
"None of you will be attempting this potion." A sharp glance at his godson, sitting between Potter and Brown. "Many of the ingredients are extremely rare and require permits to acquire them. Some are not even in my private stores." That was a blatant lie, but the lean man was good at lying. Albus had supplied him with enough of the ingredients to make sixty doses, but he had refused to allow the students to make such a dangerous formula. In exchange for this concession, he was to have fifteen doses ready to be used at any time. "The recipe is on page 421. Study this, as the Frateris draught is on the list of possible OWL testing materials." Severus sat down and opened a slender book on his desk. Quill in hand, he began to translate the Atlantean runes so he could eventually study the potion formulae later.  
  
The remainder of the period passed quietly, the students doing their level best to memorize and Severus struggling through the multitude of runes. It seemed the author of the ancient grimoire had used a different rune for every element of the potions. The text alone was nearly as elaborate as the Japanese kanji, and the ingredients were worse than ancient Chinese.  
  
When the bell rang, Severus gently closed the old book and put away his materials before looking up. It was time for lunch, after all, and he expected all the students to head straight for the Great Hall. Instead, he was faced with five Gryffindors at his desk, including his favourite.  
  
"Can I do something for you, Draco?"  
  
"Well." The blond boy looked around before leaning in towards him. "We wanted to ask if you'd any news from the front. It's been too quiet lately, especially since Sunday, and Harry keeps getting the nagging feeling that something big is going on. We're part of this, no matter how little you like it, and we may be part of the solution. If that is so, we need to be kept informed so we can accomplish our goals with a minimum of hurt for those who should stay out of this." His godson's silvery stare bore into him, and he could feel four more, though he never looked away: an emerald gaze from Potter, calm but determined to get his way; sapphire from the Weasley boy, ready to pound the life out of him and damn the consequences; peridot from Granger, curious and ready to devour anything he let slip; and finally, tanzanite from Brown, simply watching. He had often wondered how her eyes had acquired such an odd hue for a Muggle-born, as strange and brilliant eyes usually showed up in ancient families.  
  
"I will speak with the headmaster about this when the lot of you are at lunch," he replied, rubbing his right temple. He hadn't noticed the headache during his translating, but now it hit with full force. His pain- muddled brain only barely registered Draco shooing the other Gryffindors from the room before he reached into his desk to pull a packet of Muggle headache powder from a drawstring bag and took it, washing the bitter, chalky substance down with a glass of water.  
  
When the pain in his head subsided, he noticed another pain in his arm. His left arm. The sleeve was quickly rolled up, and the skull and snake in his flesh glowed a sickly green laced with black. Severus cursed and flung Floo Powder into the fireplace with his good hand. As he stepped into the flames, a breathy, panicked shout of "Dumbledore's office!" echoed through the silent dungeons.  
  
Moments later, the lanky man stepped into the headmaster's office and nearly ran over a surprised youngest Weasley.  
  
"Professor! Is something wrong? Wait, your arm." The red-headed girl reached for his left arm. He looked down in panic-had he left the sleeve up?-but his robes covered halfway down the back of his hand, the incriminating mark safely concealed.  
  
"It is nothing, Miss Weasley. I must speak to the headmaster, alone." Severus' chill tone did nothing to stop the child. A quick look at her eyes told him that, from her dazed expression, she was acting on pure, undiluted instinct. A surprisingly strong grip caught his arm just above and below the cursed tattoo. "Albus!" The normally unflappable Potions Master was now in complete panic mode.  
  
He made a-Merlin forbid-whimpering noise when his mentor entered the room. The bearded man took one look at the situation before shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose.  
  
No amount of shaking was releasing Severus from the Weasley girl's grip, and she was standing as still as if she were a part of the castle stonework. The lean man gave up and glared at the child, but the look softened into sheer surprise when he realized the pain from the Dark Mark was dulled and rapidly ebbing.  
  
"Albus, what in nine hells is she doing to me?" Dark eyes focussed on the headmaster again. The older man sighed and sat in his chair.  
  
"During her Herbology class, one of Virginia's classmates was injured by wild razor grass. Mr. Holly's let was cut nearly to the bone, and Miss Weasley made a valiant effort to slow the bleeding manually. She had one hand on either side of the wound when she says some instinct pushed magic through her hands and into the wound. Mr. Holly was walking five minutes later when Poppy arrived."  
  
Dear gods, not another special ability in the Dream Team. Draco's mind- bond with Potter was enough, and now Brown is a Seer. Then what his mentor was saying hit him.  
  
"If she fed magic into the wound and then he was walking when Poppy arrived, she must have healed him." When Albus nodded, Severus hitched up his left sleeve and stared at the delicate and pale skin of his forearm. The evil symbol still lurked there, but it was a mere ghost, even fainter than it had been for years after that fateful Halloween nearly fourteen years earlier. A timid touch on his elbow caused him to turn around, his wondering gaze met by childlike chocolate-coloured eyes and red hair.  
  
"You did want it gone, didn't you, Professor?" Severus nodded before he noticed the tremendously pale hue of Miss Weasley's skin. He barely managed to catch the falling girl in time to save her from cracking her head open on the flagstones. She had used so much energy that it very nearly caused malfunctions in her own body. Fortunate that she merely collapsed in a dead faint.  
  
"Gods. There are people who are going to want to simply use her until she dies from drainage. There hasn't been a true Healer since I was in school, and she died in my third year." The woman had been in her eighties when she had healed a very battered Hufflepuff chaser who had fallen from his broom after a broadside from a Bludger. The boy was completely healthy afterwards, but Madam Aglen had used too much of her magic and died within a day. Pomfrey had been the woman's apprentice and therefore took over the ward at that point.  
  
"Yes. I do miss Cassandra Aglen. Wonderful woman." There had been rumours that Albus fancied his mediwitch, as Severus recalled. Two seemingly random bits of information in his head suddenly connected, and the lean man looked up at his mentor.  
  
"She must be the Healer in Miss Brown's rhyme." The old wizard nodded in return.  
  
"True, I had that notion as well. I doubt there is much coincidence in the fact that the words were spoken yesterday and this shows itself today. Perhaps the talent was waiting for a trigger." Severus' eyes narrowed to glare at the oblivious Gryffindor, but Albus interrupted. "I believe this was as much of a surprise to her as it is to us. Tell me, did you get any sense of whether Miss Brown had prophesised before?" One of the things that made the Potions Master excel in his field was his feel for magic and the way it reacted to various stimuli.  
  
"She had, many times," he admitted. If she had been able to feel a prophecy on its way and told her friends to write it down, there was no way it had been the first to leave her lips. The dour man cast a considering look at the teen he still supported before setting her in a chair. "Now that I think about it and probe the Healing magic, she's only used that twice." Once to heal Holly, the second. He tenderly touched the faint brand and then poked harder when it didn't even twinge. A wry chuckle from the wizened wizard caused a sheepish smile.  
  
"So she has nearly put that to rights?"  
  
"Mmm. It doesn't hurt at all, sir."  
  
"Now, Severus, you know not to 'sir' me." The old argument stirring again, the pair of men waited for Virginia Weasley to wake.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Myrtle?" Harry tapped on the door of the second-floor girls' loo. "Can I come in? It's Harry." He waited for a moment before nearly jumping out of his skin when the teenage ghost's head came through the wood in front of him.  
  
"Harry! You've come to see me!" Myrtle actually looked happy, her face going from mope to radiant grin in a heartbeat.  
  
"Yeah," the raven-haired boy replied. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you for a bit." If anything, the ghost-girl's smile got wider.  
  
"Of course. Come in. None of the girls ever use my toilet, you know that." Myrtle withdrew from the door, and Harry pushed it open so he could slip through. A pair of quick charms locked the door and silenced the openings.  
  
"Myrtle, do you know who killed you?" The words seemed so callous to the green-eyed boy that he winced. Myrtle was unfazed.  
  
"Nope. Just remember those eyes. Do you know? I'd gladly haunt them if they were still alive."  
  
"Well, you might be surprised by the answer. Do you remember Tom Riddle? He was a prefect in Slytherin that year, Head Boy the next." It was hard for him not to fidget, and he sat down between two of the sinks.  
  
"Tom? Of course I remember the git. He was so snooty to us Muggle-borns, but everyone knew he was half and half. He was such a prick. Don't know how he got to be Head Boy." Harry had to suppress a grin.  
  
"I see. He's been such a hypocrite. I wonder what would happen if his followers found out about that."  
  
"What followers? Nobody's heard of Tom Riddle in decades. I didn't know you'd heard of him." Poor Myrtle looked so confused. He just had to let the cat out of the bag.  
  
"Anyone who knows anything in our world has heard of him. They just don't know his name's actually Tom Riddle. He prefers the name Voldemort." The spectre's indignant squawk nearly took his head off.  
  
"WHAT?!? You mean to tell me that Mr. 'I'm so much better than you because I'm in Slytherin' Riddle is the Dark Lord?!"  
  
"Aye," the ebon-haired boy replied. "And he was the one behind the Chamber of Secrets attacks both times. He killed you, and he tried to use Ginny to give his sixteen-year-old self a new body. That was why she tried to flush that diary. It had part of him in it, and he possessed her. She fought."  
  
"Oh." The ghostly girl nodded, absently chewing on her finger. "You know, I rather like the idea of tormenting Voldemort for the rest of his days. That might hamper his schemes for world domination a wee bit." Myrtle's smirk made her companion shiver.  
  
"Remind me never to get on your bad side." Harry shuddered again, causing the ghost to giggle. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to commit a little espionage on the side, would you?" The pale form next to him floated on her stomach, heels waving and chin cupped in one hand as if she lay on an invisible bed.  
  
"Spying's fun. Why d'you ask?"  
  
"Well, Professor Snape can't spy anymore cause Sir Mouldywarts knows he's on our side. I hardly ever know what he's planning because I only see when he's particular mad, cursing someone, or thinking of me. We haven't a sliver of a clue of his real plans. You, being a ghost and all, can be invisible when you want-" Myrtle popped out of sight and back again to prove his point. "-and he can't hurt you. You don't need to sleep, either. You could easily keep track of what goes on in meetings, and you could nip back and report whenever you have the opportunity."  
  
"Yes, you're right. Ghosts can make even better secret agents than James Bond!" Humming the theme music for the popular Muggle character, Myrtle darted about the room to mimic a duck-and-fire pattern. "I'll do it, Harry. Don't bother telling Professor Dumbledore, I will. Besides, you'll be late for Transfiguration if you do." He looked down at his father's pocketwatch and swore.  
  
"Later, Myrtle!" he called as he fled the washroom. A ghostly giggle followed him down the corridor.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
~Harry, if you don't get your arse in here soon, McGonagall's going to stripe it!~ Draco tried to look calm as he sat by himself at the desk. His fingers beat a tattoo on his thigh.  
  
{Almost there, mate. Rounding the last corner now.} True to form, fifteen seconds later the Golden Boy appeared, fingers latching onto the doorjamb to facilitate a sharp turn into the classroom. The dark boy had barely sat down when the bell rang.  
  
~You cut that close. You spoke with Myrtle?~  
  
{Aye. I left her doing James Bond impressions. She's sure kept up to date on popular Muggle culture.}  
  
~James Who?~  
  
{Never mind for now. Ooh, we're doing Animagi today!} The severe Head of House was magicking notes onto the chalkboards at the front of the room. Draco noticed a rack of phials on the professor's desk.  
  
~Why would McGonagall need potions in here?~ he queried idly. His deskmate shook his head in mutual confusion.  
  
"Today we will be testing you all for Animagus capabilities," the teacher announced a moment later. "Mind you, the potion will only show what you can become if you undertake the process later. Some of you may not have the discipline to do such. Others will be unable to become Animagi at all. Do not be disappointed if this is the case. The headmaster lacks this talent, and he is still a great wizard. Miss Bartleby," she called. The delicate Asian girl who shared Lavender's dormitory moved to the front and downed the liquid the professor offered. A faint yellow cloud formed next to her before flashing brown and dissipating.  
  
"Sorry, Miss Bartleby, but brown means you don't have the ability. Miss Brown." Lav's cloud stayed yellow, and a large rabbit appeared inside, its fur the same honey colour as the pretty girl's curls.  
  
"You may want to write down the description of that rabbit if you wish to become an Animagus later, Miss Brown. The same goes to any of you who do have the ability. Mr. Finnegan!"  
  
Seamus turned out to be a squirrel. 'Mione, as the others in the Dream Team had suspected, was a brown barn owl. Becky Jones was another dud. Neville was, surprisingly, a very odd-looking animal Harry called a duck- billed platypus, which he said lived in Australia. Draco's turn came almost too soon.  
  
After swallowing the liquid-foul stuff, it was-the blond watched the yellow cloud eagerly. A coiled snake materialized, its scales yellow and cream. Albino. The serpent uncoiled to at least ten feet long before the mist petered out.  
  
Parvati Patil was bouncing when she passed Draco in the aisle. She looked like she expected an Animagus form. Draco smiled perversely when her cloud turned brown.  
  
Harry's turn was next, and the former Slytherin could feel his friend's worry through their bond. It seemed, however, that the Boy Wonder needn't fear that he would be a housecat. A huge black panther, about the same size as a large tiger, stretched beside him in the yellow mist, its eyes a blazing jade green and a tiny zigzag of white fur marking its forehead. Just before it faded, the great cat stood on its haunches and opened its mouth in a silent snarl, towering well over Harry's five feet and nine inches.  
  
~Cool,~ Draco commented.  
  
{Just as cool as yours,} was the retort as Harry resumed his seat. {I swear that snake had eyes just like you.}  
  
Dean Thomas was second to last. He looked almost happy when his mist turned brown, winking at Ron as they passed each other and flashing brilliantly white teeth in his dark face.  
  
Ron shifted from foot to foot when he reached the front, nervously gulping the contents of his phial. From the yellow mist stalked a giant of a lion, his deep red mane tousled but flowing, with bright blue eyes sparkling in his tawny face. The lion turned and paced back into the mist, which then turned a blinding white.  
  
~What in the name of Merlin is that?~ Draco asked, shielding his eyes with an arm.  
  
{Why ask me,} his friend replied. {I know no more about this than you do.} Their thoughts were interrupted by a shrill cry. The light died until they could look at the tall redhead up front.  
  
Ron's face looked as if he'd been walloped with a cricket bat. His left arm was raised to shadow his own eyes, but it now bore a thick dragonhide gauntlet that reached his elbow and another thick pad along his shoulder and upper arm. Perched on the level surface, its talons digging into the tough material, was the most striking bird any in the room had ever seen.  
  
The viciously hooked beak, scaled legs, sharp talons, and piercing eyes of the raptor were a burnished silver. The predator's feathers were a blend of blacks and grays, save for a band on each wing and the tail. The bird mantled briefly, showing the stripes of electric blue running the length of each wing and forming a strip across every tail feather. Students and teacher alike gazed upon the bird in awe, and a mutter began among the pupils.  
  
"He says his name is SkyStrike," Ron suddenly announced to the room. "SkyStrike Thunderhead." Draco blinked at the redhead, turned to meet Harry's gaze, blinked again, and then looked back at Ron. A third blink.  
  
"Mr. Weasley, my office, please," McGonagall said after a moment. The rest of the Dream Team (save Ginny, of course, as she was not in the class) stood to follow. The professor glared for a moment but sighed and waved them after their friend.  
  
"Do any of you know what that bird is?" she asked when she had closed the door. All five teens shook their heads. McGonagall sighed and sat behind her desk. "It is a berserker hawk. Few know of them because few have appeared in the last two hundred years or so. Each one is hatched to bond with someone with the Blood Rage, a state in which they will fight with superhuman strength and speed until either the fighting stops or they are killed. Blood Rage warriors, according to the history books, are always Animagi, usually a large predator. The first time they see their final form triggers the bonding and awakens the Blood Rage. The hawk somehow appears exactly when the form is seen, as you have seen today." The normally stalwart woman sighed again and massaged her temples. "Tell the others class is dismissed, and return to Gryffindor Tower. I need to inform the headmaster."  
  
Draco, closest to the door, nodded and slipped out, followed by his friends. Seamus and Dean were gone seconds after they heard the word "dismissed," while the girls and Neville were a bit more civilized, packing their belongings and leaving quietly.  
  
"We really need to find somewhere we can discuss things and be sure we're not overheard," the blond boy commented as they left the classroom. The words caused Harry to stop in his tracks.  
  
"I know the perfect place," he said before starting off in the opposite direction from the Tower. At the looks he received from the others, Draco shrugged. Harry had good walls around his end of the bond most of the time, so the blond knew little more than the fact that the raven-haired boy was thinking furiously.  
  
Several minutes later, the group was gathered outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. At Harry's knock, the ghostly girl's voice called them in.  
  
"Nobody alive in here! Come in!" Indeed, Myrtle was by herself, reading in a corner. Draco raised an eyebrow at the title (Winnie the Pooh), but said nothing.  
  
"We're headed down the rabbit hole, Myrtle. Keep an eye out for anyone else?" the green-eyed boy asked. The ghost nodded, and Harry bent to look at one of the faucets. Straightening, he hissed something in Parseltongue, and the washbasin moved to reveal a huge hole.  
  
"You know," Harry thought aloud, "Salazar really could have made things easier on us all if he'd put in some stairs." With that cryptic remark, the ebon-haired young man swung his legs into the hole and slid out of sight, followed shortly by Ron and SkyStrike, the latter going into a stoop instead of sliding. Both 'Mione and Lav looked at the ex-Slytherin, who shrugged.  
  
~Harry, what did you two do?~ he asked, bespeaking the other boy.  
  
{We slid down the tunnel. Come on, we've cast cushioning charms on the landing zone. It's actually a fun trip when you're not about to save someone's life.} As Harry finished thinking at him, Draco heard the berserker hawk's shriek echo up through the rock.  
  
"Harry says that it's a tunnel and there are cushioning charms at the end." Having relayed the relevant news, the blond sat on the edge and dangled his legs inside. "Give me a slow count of twenty before you come down." A small push sent him flying down the seemingly greased slope. As the Golden Boy had said, the ride was exhilarating, similar to the rush he got when he rode any broom, especially the faster models. The landing, however, was abrupt and ungraceful.  
  
"Enjoy the trip, Dragon?" His lanky classmate was offering him a hand up. The floor felt like feet of goose down pillows. The hand was accepted, and moments later 'Mione was in his previous location.  
  
"Wow. Harry, why didn't you ever show me this place?" The bushy-haired girl was oblivious to the grime and bones of a thousand years, content for the moment to gawk at the huge circular corridors.  
  
"It's not as if I ever really had the chance, 'Mione. I've not been down here in two and a half years, not since I defeated Riddle's diary." Harry looked at the floor, but Draco frowned and considered the dark walls. "Lavisare wall." The proper flick of mahogany and dragon heartstring sent grey-green bubbles at the stone. Bursting on impact, each sphere left a ragged circle of sparkling granite behind. Sensing a challenge, Ron twirled his own willow withe before pointing in another direction. Down.  
  
"Ferianos planus." In a wave of orange sparks radiating from the spot where the wand was closest to the floor, magic cleaned the rock, leaving it gleaming. Hermione bent to examine the polished stone, barely missing being beaned by Lav as the fair girl shot out of the tunnel.  
  
"Oof!" It took Lav a moment to gain her feet, but her brain was obviously moving at several leagues a minute. "I heard you lot gabbing from the other end, so I decided it had to be safe. That's quite the landing. Glad you cast those cushioning charms."  
  
"Look, the floor is green marble. The veins look like quartz, but I think I see some silver in them, too." 'Mione poked Draco's calf to get his attention, and he knelt to take a closer look at the stone.  
  
"You're right. This stuff is rare, even in our world. Green marble in this quantity would be awfully hard to come by." Meanwhile, Ron was casting more cleaning charms, probably learned from Mrs. Weasley. Draco ran a hand over the glossy floor. Waxed and polished stone had a peculiar feel, and that texture was present, along with the magical resonance of fine marble. The once-haughty Malfoy heir gained another degree of respect for Molly Weasley.  
  
Several minutes-and no few charms-later, the five students emerged from one of the round corridors into a vast and dim cavern. Harry, in the lead, raised his wand high to cast a spell.  
  
"LUMOS SOLARIS!!" the young wizard bellowed, his voice cracking on the last syllable. Light streamed down from the heights as of the chamber's ceiling had been removed at noon on a sunny day. All five blinked and covered their eyes briefly.  
  
"Nice one, mate. Turn it down a little, though." Ron's comment was echoed with a screech from his hawk. Which winged down and settled on the shoulder pad. Harry nodded and pointed at the light source before proceeding to twist his wand in his fingers. The indoor "sun" agreeably dimmed.  
  
"Welcome to Salazar Slytherin's gloat room," the blond boy murmured. "The Founder must have been an egomaniac. Honestly, why carve your own image into the wall of a room only Parselmouths can open when they're so few and far between?" It seemed none of the others had an answer.  
  
"My fingers are just itching to retool the place," Lav commented. "You know, make that awful head into a classical façade, with a balcony and some rooms inside, turn those ghastly snakes into trees, add some colour. Basic redecorating." Draco took a moment to visualize the effect.  
  
"A Champs Elysées style, perhaps?" The honey-haired girl nodded. "I can see that. Lovely look. I wonder if Dumbledore could be convinced to tell us how to do a spell like the one on the ceiling of the Great Hall." Draco rather thought Parisian avenues were beautiful. Without the Muggle autos, of course.  
  
"That would certainly make a difference," 'Mione said, her alto echoing in the relatively empty cavern. A mound of foul-smelling muck lay between the last pair of serpents and the head. The late basilisk, perhaps.  
  
"Sounds like a grand idea to me, eh, Ron?" Harry cracked his knuckles and sent his holly wand spinning through the fingers of his right hand. "What kind of trees shall line Rue la Chambre?"  
  
Draco sighed and rolled his eyes. How he wished Uncle Sev had not taught Harry those small tricks of sleight of hand. The other boy had learned too well. Besides, his French accent was atrocious.  
  
Since Halloween is approaching and something always happens to Harry on Halloween, what will it be this year? Has anyone on the Dream Team figured out the prophecy yet? Find out next time!  
  
By the way, yes, I did invent Miss Bartleby and Becky Jones. Feel free to use them.  
  
Beth Weasley 


	19. In which there is practice, final transf...

A/N- *storms around the room, ranting* Bloody JKR! She killed him, she killed him! And almost everyone loves him, too! How could she?!  
  
Er, Beth? You need to type the next chapter. Besides, I'm still here, you don't have to take what she says for gospel.  
  
I know, I know, Sirius, but I'm still mad at her. (to readers) As you can see, I've read Order of the Phoenix and I'm royally hacked off. So I'm going to continue this fic as if the book was never published, cause I can't stand to have Sirius dead or stuck with such awful bigots and arseholes for family. There, I said it, and I've gotten some of it out of my system. Therefore, I will now proceed with the chapter. Thanks go out to all my reviewers, you give me the courage to go on!  
  
Bonds of Pain  
  
Chapter 19  
  
In which there is practice, final transformations, and a shocking article  
  
Severus raked a hand through his hair and sighed when his fingers came back thoroughly soaked. Either my water-repellent charm isn't as good as I thought, or someone thinks it's ruddy fun to put holes in it. The former was as unlikely as the latter was probable. After all, he was supervising Quidditch practice for Gryffindor.  
  
"Professor Snape!" His head jerked up at the sound of his name. One of the Tyrbinn twins-a pair in line to pick up when the Weasley twins graduated-zipped towards him on a borrowed school broom, Beater's bat in hand.  
  
"Duck, sir!" the first-year shouted. His reflexes on a hair-trigger as usual, Severus curled into a ball and slipped to the floor between two rows of stands. Seconds later there was a loud crack! of bat on metal. Looking up, Severus saw the first-year boy climb back onto the battered broom.  
  
"Bloody dangerous game," the Potions Master muttered. The only reason he had agreed to watch the practice for Minerva and Xiomara zoomed across the pitch in front of him, nearly seventy feet from the muddy grass. Draco's near-white locks almost shone, making him a beacon in the rain. It was impossible to tell if the teen held the Quaffle against his scarlet robes, but the activity of the golden-robed starting Chasers around him led Severus to believe his godson was trouncing the more experienced players at their own game.  
  
The Gryffindors were playing a scrimmage match, pitting the reserve team (Weasley, Malfoy, McDonald, Tyrbinn, Tyrbinn, Buell, and Creevey) against the starting team (Johnson, Spinnet, Bell, Weasley, Weasley, Weasley, and Potter). The only reason the starters were anywhere near being competition for the younger players was the fact that their Keeper was able to block most shots. Granger, who sat in the announcer's box, was keeping score. Severus was sorely tempted to join the girl and get out of the downpour.  
  
A fat raindrop eventually made its way through the slender man's water shield and plopped in the middle of the book he was trying to read. He let loose a strangled scream before standing. Growling to himself, Severus stomped into the nearby stairtower and climbed until he emerged in the sheltered box at the top.  
  
"Ruddy British weather." he grumbled. The brunette sitting at the rail jumped in surprise, managing to fall off her seat.  
  
"Professor!" Hand to her heart, Granger scowled at him, and he flinched. That was a moderately frightening expression when worn by the smartest Gryffindor he had ever encountered. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"  
  
Rolling his eyes, Severus claimed one of the middle benches against the wall and stretched his legs along the worn wood. "I'd much rather be at home than anywhere near this blasted country in this weather."  
  
"Really? And where might 'home' be?" the girl asked, her tone scathing.  
  
"One of the many small islands in the Aegean, actually, Miss Granger. I inherited the Manor, and it's always been my favourite place." No, he didn't care for the glamour of living in Paris, Rome, or any of the other hundreds of cities bustling with human life. His quiet island soothed him at every visit. The wild-born horses and the island's native creatures were enough company for him, and salt air proved sufficient to prevent colds.  
  
"Greece? I've been to Athens. I wish I could just prowl around the ruins and explore. Mount Olympus had the most exhilarating view, as well." Merlin, the girl could be a walking advert for the Greek tourism department.  
  
"You haven't really seen Greece until you stay in one of the little farming communities in hill country, where they still live their lives as the ancients did." Those hamlets accepted wizardry as normal, for the most part, sometimes relying on it in times of need. He didn't need to dress up as a Muggle there, nor did he have to deal with much Muggle technology. So he had a computer. That didn't mean that he got along with electronics. He counted himself lucky that it still worked, let alone that it was in "wonderful condition" according to his former student.  
  
"I wonder if Mum and Dad would be up to another trip to the Mediterranean." From the sound of things, Granger would leave him alone for now. Severus happily returned to reading his book.  
  
The practice match stretched on, with neither Potter nor Creevey spotting the Snitch in the continued downpour. No matter who caught the prize, it looked as though the reserves would win. Draco and the two younger girls were beyond the talents of the female trio that had seemed unbeatable just two years earlier. As the faint light of day dimmed, there were more near accidents in the muck, until Potter blew his whistle to call the match. Instead of landing outside, the payers simply flew straight into the locker rooms, trying to get warm and dry as soon as possible. Granger left the box, opening a large blue parasol when she emerged some metres below. She sprinted across the field to meet Brown, who had been watching from near one set of goals.  
  
"Blasted rain," Severus grumped as he stood. A sneeze from nowhere nearly doubled him over. How long would it be before he could spend all year at home?  
  
Still muttering to himself, the lanky wizard left the pitch and made his way back to the castle through the sheets of falling water. He sneezed several times before he reached the doors, determined to use some of the Pepper-up he had brewed but not yet delivered to the infirmary. Then, once he stopped steaming, he would float the lot to its destination. He had already measured out doses into phials and corked them; all that remained to do was the delivery itself.  
  
Two thirds of the way to his lab-on the second floor, contrary to rumours he had heard for years-he could have sworn he heard the yowling cry of a jungle cat. Frowning and dismissing his suspicions, he continued down the hall. Ten steps later, the unmistakeable roar of a dominant lion shook the walls.  
  
"What in the name of all the household gods is a lion doing in the school?!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Harry flexed his claws before lifting his right front paw to clean between the pads. The Quidditch team had not been out in the rain since they entered the locker rooms. Weeks earlier, as the weather was beginning to turn, Harry had leaned against one of the open lockers and triggered the opening of a secret passage that the Marauders had obviously never found. Upon exploration, the tunnel proved to end behind a tapestry on the second floor, less than a hundred feet from the Dream Team's empty classroom and right next to Myrtle's bathroom. Gryffindor hadn't walked in the rain since.  
  
Over the past day, Myrtle had been out and about, leaving her bathroom unoccupied while in search of her murderer. Few had noticed this absence, though McGonagall had asked-and been told-what happened.  
  
A rumble built in Harry's massive chest as he looked at his friends. They had reached the point where they were almost into their final Animagus forms. Hermione had turned one wall of their classroom into a mirror so they could see their new selves from head to toe- or tail.  
  
Harry had been the first to completely change. Two minutes later, a slight popping noise heralded Ron's change into a truly massive lion, his rufous mane tousled.  
  
"Ron. You're absolutely gigantic," 'Mione said, awe in her voice. "It's like Aslan come to life." She put a hand on the peak of her boyfriend's shoulders, having to reach just above her head to do so. Draco, his hands folded behind his back, paced around both Harry and Ron as the two felines stood side by side.  
  
"Harry's big, about the size of a large tiger. Ron, however. your shoulder's at five foot six, give or take an inch or two." Harry, with his newly sensitive hearing, registered a pleased rumble from his red-haired friend. Smiling inside, the black panther let loose with a hunting cry. Chuckling, the blond human waggled a finger in his ear.  
  
When Ron's rumbles began to build seconds later, Harry winced. With those lungs, a roar in the smallish room could burst human eardrums.  
  
~Draco, you and the girls had better cover your ears but good. He's gonna roar!~ His warning caused the other boy to clap his hands over his ears and motion for the girls to do the same. It was none too soon, as Ron exercised his vocal cords. The windows shook, and everyone cringed.  
  
{Bloody hell. I bet the whole school heard that.}  
  
~I'm not taking that bet. I am changing back, though.~ Harry concentrated and was back in his human form with a small pop. Ron followed suit, his human face flaming.  
  
"Sorry. Didn't realize it'd be so sodding loud," he apologized. Instead of rebuking him for language as usual, Hermione just hugged him.  
  
"You're beautiful as a lion, love. Marvellous." Harry rolled his eyes, but no one noticed. Ginny grinned before narrowing her eyes and frowning, and with a slight pop became a red-and-brown songbird. She flew over to Harry and lit on his finger before trilling a sweet melody.  
  
"Cardinal, I think," 'Mione mused, looking at the bird. "Female, of course. The males are completely red."  
  
Lavender grinned, winked at Draco, and closed her eyes. Pop. The large cotton-tailed rabbit tried a few short hops before settling herself on the blond boy's feet.  
  
"You're at least the size of a hare, Lav," Harry remarked. "Not that many would notice unless you were around other rabbits." The long ears waggled in what he could swear was a laugh. Draco blinked down at the furry lump on his feet.  
  
"Um, Lav, my feet are getting a mite warm like this. Do you mind?" The ears flattened, but Lav hopped off to one side and became human again. A pouting human. Ginny the cardinal fluttered from Harry's finger and popped back into her normal shape before wrapping her arms around her boyfriend's waist.  
  
"'Mione, it's your turn now. And Dragon's," Ron added almost as an afterthought. Despite nearly two months of working on friendship with the blond, the name "Draco" still carried venomously negative feelings for the Keeper, who used the English translation of the name for the boy.  
  
At the comment from Ron, Draco raised an eyebrow. {Ha, I'll show him,} Harry heard his friend's mental bass mutter. Another pop sounded, and the aristocratic young wizard turned into a large albino boa constrictor with eyes of polished silver.  
  
~Er, Draco, you're lots bigger than McGonagall's potion showed you.~ Even loosely coiled, the serpent was knee height and spread over three feet in diameter. Harry stood, stunned, as Lavender squealed and sat to stroke the cream-and-gold scales.  
  
Mmm, the snake hissed, I could get used to this. Ooh, right there. Aah.  
  
Enjoying yourself, mate? Harry asked in slippery Parseltongue. The triangular head snapped up, and the silvery eyes focussed on the dark- haired boy.  
  
You. Argh. I forgot you were a Parselmouth. Draco the snake smacked his head with his tail tip. Quite amused at this behaviour, Harry chuckled, which set everyone else off. The blond returned to his human form once the group had calmed down.  
  
"Now that I'm the last to transform," Hermione said, one hand to her brow in drama queen fashion, "I shall proceed apace." The hand dropped, one hazel eye winked, and a large barn owl stood in her place. It-or rather, she-made a shuddering motion that settled every feather on her back. Then Hermione fixed her large owl eyes on SkyStrike, perched atop a chair, and hooted. The hawk mantled briefly but then squawked back. The owl blinked and become Hermione again.  
  
"I can talk to him," she breathed, awe in her voice. "I become a bird of prey, and I can understand everything he says. Ron, he hates how your room is a disaster and he wants a proper perch so he can stop damaging furniture."  
  
Ron blinked and then smiled. "Right then, feathery mate of mine, we'll get a perch through Owl Order, and I'll clean some this evening." The elegant raptor spread wings and tail, making a vaguely happy-sounding cry. Ron chuckled. "He's been pestering me about that all day, but I wasn't quite sure whether it was him or my conscience putting ideas in my head." The group shared another round of laughter, opening the door and bound for the Tower five floors above.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Seating himself beside Lavender at the Gryffindor table for breakfast Tuesday morning, Draco felt slightly uneasy. He had heard Harry thrashing in the wee hours, but the sounds might have been the ordinary nightmare the younger boy had claimed. Sneaking a glance at his friend, he couldn't tell whether the other had told him the truth.  
  
Sometime during his rasher of bacon, the morning post came. His eagle owl, Nightlife, landed with the Daily Prophet and waited for its master's reward. The faithful bird got a fair chunk of bacon before it flew off. As soon as the newspaper was unrolled, however, several nearby students dropped their silver in shock.  
  
Azkaban Taken!  
By Rita Skeeter  
  
Early this morning, an attack on Azkaban prison by cloaked  
wizards erupted into a deadly fight when Aurors stationed on the  
island tried to defend themselves. The Dementors took the side of the  
invaders, administering the Kiss to two top Aurors. As far as anyone  
knows, the wizards who attacked were Death Eaters, leaving the Dark  
Mark in the sky and killing those prisoners and staff they did not  
take with them. Among the missing prisoners are the Lestranges and  
Lucius Malfoy, all three convicted Death Eaters. Not a single  
Dementor remains on the island, and officials fear that the creatures  
are allying themselves once again with the minions of You-Know-Who.  
Since the end of June, there have been rumours that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-  
Named has risen again, supported by the testimony of Harry Potter at  
the end of the TriWizard Tournament. Could this be true? The  
evidence at Azkaban leads us to believe so. Why, then, did Minister  
Fudge not reduce the number of Dementors on guard and increase Auror  
strength? Surely he did not take the words of the Boy-Who-Lived for  
granted? Why has nothing been done?  
  
A photo had been printed between the headline and the article. It showed the Dark Mark hovering over a bleak cellblock, with occasional Aurors moving in and out, gathering evidence.  
  
"Jesus H. Christ." someone muttered. Draco was in shock. Lucius and the Lestranges were free. He knew the Lestranges had tortured people to the point of insanity, and his mother was proof of how sadistic Lucius was.  
  
"Harry, I think we're in deep shite." The spectacled boy nodded gravely. Hermione sighed.  
  
"I wish there were a way to protect my parents properly," she said. Ron wrapped a comforting arm around the brunette, and she put her head on his shoulder.  
  
"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will take steps to protect all our families," Lav stated. She frowned, and Draco felt her slip her hand into his. He knew his cheeks were turning pink, but he didn't care as much as he would have.  
  
"Um, Lav, would you go to the ball with me tomorrow night?" he asked quietly. He bit the inside of his cheek, hoping the honey-haired girl would say yes.  
  
"Of course I will. You should have asked sooner, but we were a bit busy, weren't we?" The wry smile she flashed him went all the way to her twinkling blue-violet eyes.  
  
"Yeah. At least they can dance now." He glanced at the other four students in their group. Harry and Ginny sat as close to each other as they could, their hands entwined. Ron and Hermione leaned against each other across the table, probably with arms about waists. Draco knew this was the start of frightening times for all of them, but the Weasleys and the Grangers were high-profile targets. The Grangers were Muggles, and the Weasleys had been staunch supporters of Dumbledore during the last reign of terror.  
  
{Dammit, Draco,} Harry swore in their heads, {They're afraid. They're afraid for their families, and it's all Tom's fault. I swear by everything holy in this world, he will pay.} Draco blinked at his raven-haired friend.  
  
~Calm down, mate. Deep breaths. Think happy thoughts.~ The blond put a comforting hand on the other boy's shoulder, and the fire blazing in the green eyes subsided to a calm flicker.  
  
{Thanks.} The quiet thought drifted across the bond, reassuring Draco that the Boy Wonder had a grip on his anger again.  
  
~I'll go talk to Dumbledore, shall I?~ Not waiting for a response, the ex- Slytherin stood, releasing Lavender's hand and stepping over the bench. He gave the others a reassuring nod and strode to the head table. The wizened man at the centre of the table saw him and gestured to the seat beside him.  
  
As Draco took the offered seat, he noticed that the Slytherin table was quite a bit subdued, even when compared to the other Houses. He thought inside how many were closely related to Death Eaters and came up with far too many. His godfather needed to know, for he would be their best hope of keeping those students-and others-from turning to the dark.  
  
"Professor," he said quietly, "many of my friends are worried for their families, especially Lavender, Hermione, and the Weasleys. Will they be protected in this war?" For war it would be. Harry would surely be the poster boy for the forces of Light, perhaps even fighting on the front lines. He would be there, right beside his friend, of course.  
  
"Miss Granger and Miss Brown's families will be contacted today and offered sanctuary here. The Weasleys will arrive Thursday morning, including Bill, Charlie, and Percy. Your friends need not fear, Mr. Malfoy."  
  
"Thank you, sir." The blond turned to go, but he stopped when he realized one of his mind's wool-gatherings had just borne fruit.  
  
"Harry's in that prophecy!" he hissed. "I only now realized. He's the symbol of the Light, the sixth Dreamer in the rhyme."  
  
"Indeed. Miss Weasley is the Healer, if she hasn't already told you of her 'adventure' yesterday morning. If I'm not mistaken, Mr. Weasley." The headmaster left the thought hanging, and Draco picked it up.  
  
". is the raging one. We thought it meant temper, but Blood Rage works, too." A quick glance at his friends showed Ron's hawk greedily gulping fried ham as the redhead glared at it.  
  
The blond rubbed his chin in thought. The coincidence of having three of the prophesised Dreamers in the Dream Team was highly improbable. On the other hand, if the Dreamers were the Dream Team, then everything fit. Not only did it fit, but it did so perfectly. He himself had changed sides when he realized what was at stake. Lavender had hidden her Sight for two years. Ron had the Blood Rage, Ginny was a Healer. Hermione seemed to file every tidbit of information she read or heard. Harry was the poster boy the Light rallied around, because he had defeated this foe before.  
  
"Gods," he breathed. This was monumental. They needed to talk about this, just the Dream Team and SkyStrike, away from prying eyes and long ears. Excusing himself to the headmaster, he rushed back to the table with his friends and sat down, leaning forward. "Lunchtime, let's all meet at La Rue." They had agreed to use Harry's name for their hideout. No one could touch them once they slid down the "rabbit hole." The other five nodded their understanding. It was going to be a long day.  
  
You know, something always happens to Harry on Halloween. First year, it was the troll, second year had the first attack, third year Sirius knifed the Fat Lady, fourth year Harry's name came out of the Goblet. What will happen this year?  
  
Review cause it makes me happy!  
  
Beth Weasley 


	20. In which there is a Ball, a battle, and ...

A/N- Hee hee. Two chapters out, one right after the other. Yeah, I've been on a roll. I had a short little timeline for chapters 16 through 20. Sixteen and seventeen took place on October 19 except for the end of seventeen, which was on the twenty-eighth, eighteen on the twenty-ninth and the morning of the thirtieth, and twenty on Halloween, which was a Wednesday in 1996. Just giving everyone a little reference here. I doubt chapters will be out this fast very often, but your reviews make it more likely. I love seeing "Review Alert!" in my mailbox when I get online. Thank you all! Oh, and Hrei-siesn, last chapter's teaser has what has happened each year on Halloween. It's OK to be a ditz. Now on with the show! Oh, just so you all can understand, {words} is incoming mental communication, and ~words~ is outgoing. I realize some of you may have gotten confused before. I hope that clears things up!  
  
Bonds of Pain  
  
Chapter Twenty  
  
In which there is a Ball, a battle, and more bonds  
  
Severus closed his eyes and leaned against the stone wall as a waltz began to play, wishing Wen was there so he could be dancing as well. The ghost quartet Albus had recruited was very good, and the Potions Master was much relieved that it wasn't another pop group.  
  
Glancing at the Dream Team, the dour professor reflected on what his mentor had told him Tuesday afternoon. He had asked the older man about his breakfast conversation with Severus' godson. Apparently the young man had figured out, as they had, that the six Dreamers in Miss Brown's prophecy corresponded to the six members of the Dream Team. While Severus and Albus had suspected this was the case, Draco had come to the same conclusion on his own, which confirmed it in their minds. Once that topic was closed, Severus mentioned the odd (for a school) sounds he had heard Monday evening. The headmaster had actually been speechless for all of five minutes.  
  
"A panther and a lion?" he had finally asked. "In my school? I will find out what is going on, Severus. Thank you for letting me know." That had been the end of that. However, the lean man was still nervous. If anything scared him, it was big cats. As large as or larger than a grown man and able to move almost silently, the great felines were among the few animals that could sneak up on him.  
  
Shivering at the thought that one of the predators he had heard could be around, he looked around the Great Hall again. The entire Dream Team was out on the dance floor, and he recognized Draco's particular style in the waltz. At least Weasley and Potter weren't tripping all over themselves as they had the year before.  
  
WHA-BOOM!!!  
  
The Potions Master jumped at the sound, his eyes wide. Every dancer froze. His heart in his throat, Severus sprinted for the huge double doors. Peeking around them sent him back against the wall, swearing.  
  
Outside, a group of cloaked, hooded, and masked wizards and witches had blasted open the front doors of the castle. Death Eaters. Severus caught Minerva's eye and made the hand signal for the intruders. The woman calmly nodded and shot sparks into the air for the students' attention.  
  
"Students, we are under attack. Please gather at the back of the hall, and you will be led to safety. Stay calm and follow the directions of the Head Boy and Girl." A mad rush began, but it was somehow contained. Severus scanned the sea of heads for his godson and his friends. Draco's white- blond hair was nowhere to be seen, and the only Weasley red were the twins. He swore again. Damned Gryffindor bravery! Wand out, he joined Minerva as she rushed past him and out the doors.  
  
As he fired Stunning Spells at the Death Eaters, the lean wizard took in the battle in several glances. A huge Albino constrictor wreaked havoc on the cloaked figures, cowing them with its mere presence and then breaking arms liberally. The centre of the Death Eaters was a tangle that obscured the individual combatants, with a fierce grey raptor shrieking above and making diving attacks.  
  
Severus' heart nearly stopped when a thunderous roar filled the Entrance Hall. Several Death Eaters literally went flying from the central fight, and the lion's battle-cry rang again. The wizards around the struggle moved back in a panic. There in the centre of the hall was the largest lion the Potions Master had ever seen. By the beast's side was a black panther that was not much smaller.  
  
As the Death Eaters retreated, the huge constrictor joined the two giant cats. He had to admit that the three animals and the screaming hawk formed a handsome tableau, but he was a mite busy. He had been separated from Minerva in the melee, and it was imperative that he find her again. Albus had warned him that Voldemort might attempt to abduct the woman as he had in his previous reign, though Severus had no idea why, and his mentor had not told him. There! The Gryffindor was in the midst of a group of retreating Death Eaters, bound and gagged but struggling. A knife sailed out of nowhere to imbed itself in the back of the Death Eater carrying the other professor, mere inches from her face. As the cloaked figure pitched forward in death, another smoothly grabbed the prisoner and fled.  
  
"Professor!" A shrill but furious girl's cry pierced the air. The dagger that had felled Minerva's captor zipped through the air towards the stairs as another like it spun in the other direction with deadly accuracy. Two more combatants entered the fray, both completely cloaked inn Gryffindor scarlet. Steel flashed around one, while the second wielded a blur that thumped enemies with a sound like wood. As the lion mauled every black cloak in its reach, the panther loosed a hunting cry and leapt after the group that had taken Minerva. The serpent glanced after the panther only briefly before flicking the wand from an opponent's hand with its tail and rejoining the fight.  
  
With Minerva gone, it was Severus' personal opinion that they were all in deep shite.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Harry panted as he sped after Professor McGonagall's captors. He had to reach them and free her before they left the grounds. Something told him they had truly despicable intentions towards his teacher.  
  
Must stop them. Must stop them now. As his feline body tired, he tried to think. Wait. Broom! Mid-leap, he changed into his more familiar human form and raised his wand as he ran.  
  
"Accio Firebolt!" Within seconds, his precious broom was beside him. An easy leap had him astride the Firebolt, and he shot forward much faster than he could have gone on foot. A wordless roar came from his lips as he drew Gryffindor's sword from its sheath on his back. One of the Death Eaters slowed to look at him and was split from navel to chin for his effort.  
  
Streaking through the air at top speed, Harry sheathed the sword and reached for McGonagall as he came closer. He didn't notice the edge of the grounds and the wards slip by until the Death Eaters apparated away and his hand closed on empty air. Pulling his broom to a halt, he dropped to the ground and howled his fury.  
  
"Tom!! I will get you, I swear!!!!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Draco winced as his snake senses picked up the furious oath. He could taste Harry's magic on the air, somehow amplifying the younger boy's voice and broadcasting it for nearly a league in every direction.  
  
~Harry, mate, calm down! We'll get her back. Just calm down and get your arse back here so we can talk to Dumbledore.~ Despite the Boy Wonder's shields, anguish flooded through his mind from the bond. ~We'll go talk to the old coot, and he'll help us make a plan to rescue the professor.~  
  
{We'd have to tell him about being Animagi.} Since he was a snake and had no shoulders to shrug, he did so mentally.  
  
~Small sacrifice. Barmy bastard will probably just twinkle at us when we do.~ As he looked around, he noticed the flight of the last Death Eaters able to do so. He fervently hoped Lucius Malfoy and the Lestranges were among the dead. If they were only wounded, there would undoubtedly be rescue attempts from the other side. Better yet if Wormtail was among those left behind.  
  
As Draco surveyed the damage, he noticed Ron's eyes dim a bit. They had been nearly incandescent during the battle, but the lion seemed calmer now. Perhaps the Blood Rage was ebbing. The inflating of the gigantic ribcage gave the blond just enough warning to bury his head in the coils of his reptile body. The other Gryffindor's anguished roar shook the very stones of the castle.  
  
~Shite. Ron is well and truly hacked off at Tom, now,~ he commented dryly to the absent member of the team. He had seen Hermione and Lavender in the fight, and he could taste Ginny in the air. ~First the idiot tries to kill you, then he possesses and nearly kills his only sister, and now he's taken the Head of House. Tom's in trouble when Ron finds him.~  
  
{He'll be torn to pieces. I'll meet you in front of the gargoyle. If the others see you leaving, they'll know to follow.} Not only was Ron furious, Draco could tell that Harry was seething as well. And-Dear Merlin-he was once again blaming himself.  
  
Not again. Draco turned and began to slither up the stairs where he smelled Ginny. He's going to need you to snap him out of the self-blame again. He thought the youngest member might be a Parselmouth like her boyfriend because of her experiences in her first year. He heard the swish of the Invisibility Cloak beside him, and two sets of footsteps and a heavy padding behind him told the former Slytherin where the rest of his companions were.  
  
When he reached the gargoyle, Draco looked both ways to be sure no one could see the group. The corridor was deserted, so he returned to human form with a small pop. Another heralded Ron's change, while Ginny appeared, folding Harry's Invisibility Cloak carefully. Her blue and green dress robes were undamaged, and she tucked a dagger into her bodice. Hermione and Lavender swept off identical enchanted scarlet cloaks and straightened their robes. Though the older girls had been in the midst of the fighting, not a spot marred either dress.  
  
When Harry flew down the corridor and landed beside him, his eyes were red and his expression thunderous. The black-haired wizard nodded at them as he lifted his Firebolt. Draco put a hand on his friend's shoulder, and Ginny wordlessly wrapped the windswept boy in a hug and snuggled her head into his shoulder. The dark boy hugged the petite girl close, and Draco sighed to himself.  
  
"Ton-Tongue Toffee." Ron spoke the words to open the gargoyle before ushering the others inside. They made a brief flash of colour on the moving stairs: Harry in a brilliantly coruscating green, Ginny in shimmering green and blue, Draco in ocean blue, Lavender wearing such a deep blue-violet it appeared nearly black, Hermione in a silvery cream, and Ron in a jewel-like blue.  
  
They weren't terribly surprised to find that the circular office was empty. Dumbledore was certainly doing damage control among the other students. Content to wait, the Dream Team seated themselves around the room. Harry and Ginny shared an armchair, speaking in whispers with their noses almost touching. Hermione sat in another chintz armchair, Ron at her feet and holding her hand. Another pair of the plush seats housed Draco and Lavender.  
  
Nervous for the safety of his Transfiguration professor, Draco clutched the worn fabric arm of his chair. Who would be teaching their classes? Who would serve as Head of Gryffindor until Professor McGonagall was rescued? The blond jerked in surprise when a delicate hand covered his. He looked up to meet the amazingly blue-violet eyes of Lav.  
  
"We'll be all right," the girl murmured. "We'll work with Professor Dumbledore to find McGonagall, and we'll help with the rescue. I have a feeling we will get her back." Draco trusted Lav's "feelings," even before he found out she was a Seer.  
  
"I'm worried about what will be done to her, though. She's firmly on our side. Why did Tom want her captured alive in the first place?" His brow furrowed in confusion.  
  
"I don't know. Maybe Dumbledore does. I only hope he will trust us enough to tell us."  
  
"And what might I be trusting you with, my dear?" Draco jumped again at the headmaster's voice. It did not help to have him on a hair-trigger as he was tonight.  
  
"Why would Tom Riddle want Professor McGonagall?" Harry asked. Obviously the blond wasn't the only one in the group with that particular question on his mind.  
  
"I take it the six of you were Severus' help during the skirmish?" They all nodded. McGonagall had mentioned that she would tell the headmaster about SkyStrike. That didn't mean he had informed the other teachers. Since the hawk seemed to be able to become invisible at will-none of the other years in Gryffindor had commented on him-it stood to reason that none of the professors had seen him in class, even though SkyStrike went everywhere with the taller boy.  
  
"Well, it seems at least three of you are to be congratulated on completing the Animagus transformation. Who is who?" Draco could feel the pink tinge rise to his cheeks.  
  
"I'm the panther, sir," Harry offered. "The lion is Ron, and Draco is the snake. Ginny is a cardinal, Lavender a rabbit, and Hermione a barn owl." The old wizard beamed. So achieving a complete transformation was difficult. So they were young. They had two experienced teachers. Each of them had five friends going through the same process. The Marauders had done some excellent research before writing their little handbook, despite the fact that they had only printed and bound a few copies.  
  
"Very good work. Draco, my boy, did you convey your deductions from our conversation over breakfast yesterday?" The blond nodded in response, not completely trusting his voice. "Splendid. From your actions this evening, I believe beyond a doubt that you are, indeed, the Dreamers of Miss Brown's prophecy. In preparation for the discovery of the group, I had Severus brew fifteen doses of the Frateris draught I understand you studied Monday, save Virginia."  
  
"Professor, they've been teaching me the material from last year and their lessons this year. I know as much about Frateris as they do." Ginny held herself high as she informed Dumbledore of their tutelage. The man simply smiled widely.  
  
"Even better. We planned on offering the Frateris to the Dreamers, especially if they already had strong bonds, which most of you do." The headmaster cast a calculating eye around the room. Draco thought for a moment. He had completely patched things up with Hermione and Ginny. Hermione was naturally almost as forgiving as Harry, and Ginny understood that the names and the baiting would never happen again. Lavender had not been subjected to the treatment before, and if what he felt for her was anything close to Harry's feelings for Ginny, then there was no problem there. Ron was the only member of the Dream Team with whom he might still have problems. Looking over at the redhead, silver eyes met sapphire.  
  
"Draco Malfoy and Dragon are two completely different people," Ron said quietly. "Dragon is one of my best friends, a bloke I'm proud to know." The lanky young man held out a hand. Draco smiled.  
  
"Ron Weasley and the Weasel are likewise different people. I'm happy to have Ron Weasley as one of my mates." Draco reached over and clasped the hand warmly. "Let's do this." Dumbledore opened a drawer and withdrew over a dozen flasks. Filled with a virulently yellow liquid and the corks sealed with daubs of wax, there was no question that this was the Frateris draught.  
  
"If none of you mind, I'd like to call Severus and Filius up to help me so the bondings can be completed more quickly." Glances travelled around the room. None had any objection to help from the Heads of Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Within minutes, the two professors had joined them in the small tower, and Dumbledore was pouring six cups of tea.  
  
"The tea will act as a vehicle for the potion," Uncle Sev explained. "Each dose has had time to associate in its flask, and therefore will react between only the pair consuming the associated portions." Draco knew he wasn't the only person in the room giving his godfather a blank look. The potions professor rolled his eyes and took the flask the headmaster offered. "One flask per bond, half of the draught to each cup. Toss it back as the incantation is spoken. It's not complicated." The sallow man suited action to words, pouring the potion into two cups, where it sank almost like honey beneath the tea. A brisk stir blended the two liquids, and the Potions Master handed the cups to Draco and Lavender.  
  
As if cued, Professor Flitwick and the headmaster each prepared another pair of teacups. Uncle Sev began to mutter to himself, the worn birch in his hand creating a delicate pattern in the air. At his godfather's nod, Draco tipped his cup and allowed the potion to slide down his throat. A tingling sensation crept through his limbs, making the blond feel as if he was floating. Instinct closed his eyes, allowing him to concentrate on what he felt, both physically and mentally.  
  
As his mind seemed to drift on the air, Draco "felt" something brush against hi consciousness. Unable to identify the presence, he reached to touch it again. At the second contact, they stuck together.  
  
With a familiar, yet strange, sensation, emotions flooded into him from the other presence: confusion, a dab of fear, but overall determination.  
  
{I will get through this, no matter what,} a sweet contralto spoke in his mind. Reflex and a recently-developed sense of chivalry prompted him to answer.  
  
~Things will turn out all right, I'm sure.~ Even to himself, his mental voice sounded odd, more grown up. His eyes opened in surprise. His mental voice was a bass!  
  
"You're going to have a bass when your voice breaks, Draco." White-blond hair spun away from his face as he turned to look at Lav.  
  
~And it seems you have been blessed with a truly lovely contralto.~ A flush rose to the girl's cheeks. Privately, Draco thought she looked radiant. He was distracted when Lav's teacup rattled and began to float towards the headmaster's desk. He blinked. Several times.  
  
{Er. did I do that?} Lavender asked. She looked nearly as stunned as Draco felt.  
  
~How about I try?~ Without waiting for an answer, the Malfoy heir glared at his teacup and thought it into place beside Lavender's. It disappeared from the tray between their chairs and reappeared at the desk, falling a few millimetres and settling with a tiny rattle. More blinking ensued.  
  
"Wicked," Lav finally whispered, a mad grin spreading across her face. Draco Grinned back. They could have fun with this.  
  
Ooh, I guess we know what that means. At least, you do if you've been reading carefully. So what are the answers to Draco's earlier questions? Find out next time!  
  
Beth Weasley 


	21. In which there is aftermath and explanat...

A/N- Wow. Busy Beth. It seems my muse has decided to visit me more often recently, as I have finished writing Chapter 22, almost finished Chapter 23, and practically planned out the two after that. It looks like all of you are in for a treat, because I may have two or three more chapters out in a matter of weeks. As usual, thank you to everyone who has reviewed since my last post, even though it hasn't been that long. If you see Endora online, thank her for putting up with my continually-morphing story and giving me inspiration, as well as making sure this is actually readable. This chapter was mostly prompted by her ideas of the timeline beyond the books, a lot of which I agree with. Enjoy!  
  
Bonds of Pain  
  
Chapter Twenty-one  
  
In which there is aftermath and explanations  
  
Having finished helping Albus with the Frateris draught for the Dream Team, Severus slipped away from Filius Flitwick and made off down a deserted corridor to bang his head against the stones. Each of the budding couples in the group had turned out to be Soulmates, displaying intriguingly powerful telekinesis. Draco had practically shown off with his teacup, but all six students had floated their teacups to the desk without using wands, hands, or incantations. With the rest of the group, despite only having been close for two months, the friendships had been so firm that there was now a complete telepathic circle among them. How was he to keep them from giving each other answers on tests?  
  
Severus only allowed himself a few minutes of self-pity. He was needed in the Entrance Hall to help identify some of the captured, injured, and dead Death Eaters. Uncharacteristically, he hoped that Wormtail was among the lot. At least the students-including the Dream Team, as Albus was escorting them-were in their dormitories. They wouldn't have to face the blood and the bodies. With two giant cats and a huge serpent fighting on their side, Death Eater casualties had been high. There would certainly be some drastic punishments soon.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Harry sighed as Professor Dumbledore led them up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower. The headmaster still hadn't told them why Voldemort wanted to kidnap Professor McGonagall.  
  
"If we might step in here for a moment, everyone?" the wizened old man asked, gesturing to a classroom just off the stairs. Wordlessly, the Dream Team filed in, seating themselves on the dusty desks against one wall. They watched silently as Dumbledore seemed to gather himself.  
  
"I presume you all know that Voldemort was once Tom Riddle?" Nods all around were his answer. "During his years here, Minerva was also a student. She was from an old pureblood family, and an attractive young lady. Tom became enamoured of her and pursued her until he left the school, but she completely refused his advances. During his first reign of terror, he attempted to abduct her from the school no less than five times. Each failed. In my opinion-and hers-Tom still desires her in a carnal fashion. As she is a powerful witch, the result of a union between the two of them would be inordinately more so."  
  
"So if Tom managed to get a child of his from Professor McGonagall and raise that child the way he liked." Harry began. This did not look good at all.  
  
". then we'd all be in deep shite." Ginny completed his thought aloud, squeezing his hand gently. Dumbledore nodded solemnly.  
  
"We need Myrtle more than ever. If she can find Voldemort and tell us where he's keeping the professor and the wards he has up, it will make our mission that much easier." Ron's analytical mind was obviously already at work.  
  
"As soon as Myrtle shows up, either one of the other ghosts or one of the portraits will ask her to come see me," Dumbledore commented. "I will let her know what information we need. However, that does not mean any of you will be going on the rescue mission."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Are you insane?"  
  
"There is no way you're leaving us here." Lavender was matter-of-fact. "If there are anti-magic wards in place, we may be the only ones able to fight effectively. You saw what we girls can do, and the boys have bigger weapons, for the most part." This was said with a shy look at the black- haired boy in the middle of the group. Harry waved the comment off. He was quite proud of his daggers, and he had recently been working with them and Gryffindor's Sword as a set.  
  
"We will cross that bridge when we reach it, Miss Brown. In the meantime, I will keep you informed. Now, let us continue to the Tower." Dumbledore opened the door and waited for them to leave, but they stayed seated.  
  
"Who will teach Transfiguration?" Hermione asked.  
  
"I will. I taught the subject before I became Headmaster, I can do so again."  
  
"What about Head of House?" Harry noticed that Ron was holding Hermione's hand in both of his as the redhead spoke.  
  
"Xiomara Hooch is the other Gryffindor graduate on staff. I realize that our House is already Quidditch-mad, but I will ask her to restrain her enthusiasm for the game."  
  
~Bloody hell,~ Harry thought, trying to broadcast to the entire group Apparently he was successful, as all his friends seemed to hear his mental tenor.  
  
{We won't get any studying done with Madam Hooch in charge,} Hermione's alto moaned. Harry was not the only one to chuckle.  
  
{Merlin knows we need the practice, though,} Ginny commented prosaically. The raven-haired boy rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand and marvelled at the music in her mind's adult soprano. He couldn't seem to get enough of hearing it.  
  
~I love you, Gin,~ he whispered, the thought solely on the "wavelength" he shared with his girlfriend.  
  
{I love you, too, Harry,} came the soft response. Smiling, the green- eyed Gryffindor laced his fingers with his soulmate's, feeling the silver of his promise ring against his hand.  
  
When the group reached the Fat Lady, Dumbledore smiled. "You may tell your classmates there was a battle and Minerva was kidnapped, but please refrain from giving out the details I related to you." All six students nodded agreeably. Knowing that Voldemort. well, lusted after their Head of House- and apparently had done so for over fifty years-had unsettled them. Harry could well imagine what the other Gryffindors' reactions would be. Of course, some would have to be informed, but the headmaster was well within his rights to determine who and when.  
  
"Dragon tooth," Ron muttered to the Fat Lady as the old wizard disappeared around the corner. The pink-clad woman barely looked up, a lacy hankie in hand.  
  
"O-of course, dear. Oh, my poor kitten!" Harry and Ginny exchanged incredulous stared as the portrait burst into fresh tears.  
  
{Of course!} Ginny thought. {She must have been here when Professor McGonagall was a student, and she probably knows McGonagall's a cat animagus, so a younger McGonagall would be.}  
  
~. a kitten. I see now. One of the other portraits must have told her about the attack. A devilish smirk spread across his face as he stepped through the portrait hole behind Lav and before Ginny. Turning swiftly, he seized the younger girl about the waist and set her over his shoulder in a fireman's lift to carry her into the common room.  
  
"Harry James Potter, put me down right now!" she shrieked. Through their new bond-his head was getting a bit crowded between his friends and Voldemort-the dark-haired boy knew she was teasing. However, Fred and George Weasley did not, despite being her brothers and having known her all her life.  
  
"if the lady says put her down." one twin began.  
  
".you had better do as she asks, Potter." Both seventh-years levelled Snape-calibre glares at him.  
  
"You idiots," Ginny hissed as Harry set her on her feet. "We were playing around. Grow up. If I really wanted down, I would have been as soon as he picked me up." While Gred and Forge had Snape glares, nothing could compare to the Ginny Weasley Glare of Doom. The two wizards shrank in on themselves and said not a word.  
  
Noticing that the commons was considerably quieter than when they had entered, Harry looked around. Nearly seventy faces stared and him and the rest of the Dreamers. "What?" he asked, puzzled. He hated being gawked at.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Where'd you go?"  
  
"Where's McGonagall?" Questions pelted at the Dream Team from all sides. Frustrated, the green-eyed boy drew his wand and loudly shot sparks into the air. Everyone was soon quiet again, and he climbed onto a table so he could be seen.  
  
"Death Eaters have attacked the school and abducted Professor McGonagall. However, there were defenders on our side, and most of the professors are currently sorting out enemy casualties. No one on our side was severely hurt."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Draco listened and watched as Harry calmed their classmates and explained the situation to a packed common room. It was simply amazing to see this side of his friend at work.  
  
{I don't think he realizes yet,} Ron's baritone commented, {but Harry's a natural leader. They look to him because he knows instinctively what to say to calm them, and what to do. It's uncanny when you watch him do that.}  
  
{He doesn't even know he's doing it, brother dear,} Ginny replied. Draco got the strange feeling that Harry couldn't hear a thing they were saying.  
  
{He can't hear us, love,} Lavender told him. She stroked his knuckles with her thumb. {The talent has him so strongly that he won't even register us until the rest of the House has calmed down.}  
  
~I guess I realized that, in a way,~ the blond admitted with a sigh. ~It's just a mite strange to be talking to the rest of you like this instead of him.~ Taking him by surprise, Lav leaned over and kissed him just in front of his ear.  
  
"I do like you," the honey-haired girl whispered. Draco could feel his face heat and his heart flutter. Oh my.  
  
Harry quickly finished briefing the other Gryffindors on the situation. When he related the fact that Madam Hooch would be the temporary Head of House, Lee Jordan and the members of the Quidditch team cheered. Draco arced an eyebrow.  
  
"Enthusiastic, aren't they?" he murmured to no one in particular. Lavender snorted.  
  
"Indeed. Practice will be insane for a while. Then again, matches will be off the walls." At the sarcastic, yet true response, he had to snigger.  
  
Harry had stepped down from the table and was blushing at Weasley compliments when a banging on the portrait startled Draco. Glancing at the girl beside him, he moved down the short corridor with his wand at the ready, giving the door a slight push. There stood Madam Hooch, her short grey hair almost as mussed as Harry's usually was, and her hawk-like eyes bright.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, where's Mr. Potter? I have news for him," the coach explained, bouncing on the balls of her feet. The blond pushed the portal further open and pointed towards the common room. He was nearly bowled over by the short flying teacher. The former Slytherin righted himself and followed to see what had the woman so worked up.  
  
Harry was bent over to hear the temporary Head, who in turn was on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. Without warning, the raven-haired boy jumped, punching the air and whooping in joy. Ignoring the fact that he had just gotten the attention of the rest of the room again, Draco's friend seized Ginny about the waist and spun her in the air.  
  
{He's free!} the jubilant young man crowed mentally. {Wormtail is among the injured, and Sirius is going to be free!} Grinning at the good news, Draco and the rest of the Dream Team moved forward, enveloping the Golden Boy in a group hug that only broke up when Harry began to thoroughly kiss his girlfriend. Cheers and catcalls filled the common room when the remainder of Gryffindor realized what the pair was doing.  
  
"Thanks, Madam Hooch. That was the best news he could have received this evening." The Quidditch coach looked up at the blond, puzzled, but he tapped his temple and glanced at Harry, which she understood.  
  
"Why was that good news, though?" she asked. Draco sat in an unoccupied armchair, and Madam Hooch took another to his left.  
  
"The man you told him of, Wormtail, was the real Secret Keeper for the Potters. They switched at the last minute. Wormtail betrayed them, orphaned Harry, and then framed Sirius for his own murder before hiding as the Weasleys' pet rat until third year. Because we can finally prove that he's alive, Harry's godfather can go free, and we've caught a prominent and knowledgeable Death Eater." The small woman nodded her understanding.  
  
"I guess he's been in communication with Black since his third year?" she queried, obviously meaning Harry.  
  
"Ever since he found out the truth." The witch chuckled wryly.  
  
"Not that Sirius is an ideal role model for anyone, but he's better than nothing."  
  
Draco smiled a bit coolly. "Better by for than the Muggles Harry grew up with. I'm surprised he turned out as kind as he did after dealing with them." This comment prompted a curious look from the coach, but he only elaborated a bit. "I'll just say that no living creature deserves the treatment he put up with for ten year and the last four summers."  
  
Xiomara Hooch nodded solemnly before standing again. "I must get back downstairs to help the others, now that I've delivered my message. I hope Albus can do something about Minerva's predicament before something awful happens." Draco nodded. "By the way, what's the password so I can get in later?"  
  
"Dragon tooth. Good luck, Madam Hooch." The woman nodded and waved as she left. Draco was soon pulled into the mass celebration that began as the true story of Sirius Black spread around the room.  
  
How did Sev's lycanthropy cure work out for Remus? How will Fudge react to all the strange news he's getting? What will Dumbledore tell the school and the papers? What will Dumbledore's Transfiguration class be like? Find out next time!  
  
If anyone has ideas for the Dream Team's nicknames (a la the Marauders), let me know in your review!  
  
Beth Weasley 


	22. In which there is Fudge, breakfast, and ...

A/N- Beth is on a roll. Yes, I have another chapter out for all my wonderful readers already. Depending on how much time I get to write in the next week or two between work and painting my room (and all that wonderful stuff), I may have two more chapters out for you in rapid succession. Again, much thanks goes to Endora, without whom I'd be lost. She gives me so much insight. ^.^ Thanks are also due to all my reviewers, even though I only gave you two days to review the last chapter. Enjoy!  
  
Bonds of Pain  
  
Chapter Twenty-two  
  
In which there is Fudge, breakfast, and Transfiguration with a headmaster  
  
Severus found himself eagerly awaiting Remus Lupin's knock on his door Thursday morning, as the werewolf would be delivering the results of the Wolfsbane Potion Mark Two. Despite the kidnapping, the battle in the Entrance Hall had gone remarkably well for the school's defenders. None of the professors had been hurt, nor had the four animals or the three who had wielded Muggle weapons, according to Albus. Among the enemy casualties had been MacNair, Avery, and Wormtail. Each captured Death Eater had been locked into a warded cell in the dungeons, with no chance of escape. Snape had never even known the rooms existed, despite having taught for years in the same area of the castle.  
  
When the door slammed open shortly after dawn, bouncing back from the stone wall, Severus nearly jumped out of his skin. Lupin charged into his parlour, looking younger than he had in many years. The silver strands had completely disappeared from his hair, as well as the drawn and ill look from his face. His eyes were no longer the amber Severus had always known, but turquoise.  
  
"Thank you!" the man cried, leaping on the thoroughly startled Potions Master. "I took the final dose before moonrise, and I didn't change! Then when I concentrated on the wolf, I popped and was the wolf with my mind, just like an Animagus!" Stepping back, the man made a quick demonstration. Pop! Wolf. Pop! Lupin again. "I can't thank you enough, Severus!"  
  
"Excellent." A slow grin spread across the tall man's face. "Artemis will be so happy when she hears. I finally found the solution." The realization hit him full force at that moment, and he whooped. Others had been searching for a cure for centuries, and not only had he found a way to tame the wolf, he had created one that turned the curse into Animagus ability. "I found it!" he crowed. So he would be heard. Who cared? He'd found a cure.  
  
Severus was still doing a very undignified victory dance when the flames on his hearth whooshed and turned green. Albus' head appeared in them without the dark man noticing, and Remus began to laugh before Severus noticed his mentor watching him.  
  
"Intriguing ritual, Severus. Would both of you mind coming up to my office? Cornelius Fudge is on his way, and your success would be a bit of good news to offset the bad of last night's encounter." A wicked gleam lit the headmaster's eyes. Severus had no doubt that the Minister was in for a very big shock. Rather than being good news to the bigoted idiot, Severus' potion would be another blow. He would finally get that Order of Merlin, and maybe his Wolfsbane would actually be credited to him as well. Not to mention the dent that would be made in the Dark Lord's recruitment plans.  
  
"We'll be right there, Albus, if you'll keep the fire going." The ancient wizard nodded in response, and his head disappeared. An unusual smile gracing his aquiline features, the Potions Master offered his guest the bowl of Floo Powder from the mantle. With a wink, the former werewolf took a pinch and stepped through the flames. Severus grinned as he replaced the bowl and followed.  
  
"I must say, Severus, your cure seems to be most effective. The Animagus transformation is a wonderful bonus. Remus certainly would have missed being able to run in the forest with a certain friend if that had not been a side effect." The sallow professor found himself flushing at the unexpected praise from his mentor.  
  
"Actually, Albus, that bit was completely unpredicted. I don't know if it will work the same on everyone, but I wouldn't be surprised." Not now that he actually had the proof that it worked. Ha. Take that, Fudge, you dolt! Smirking, he leaned against the wall just to the hinged side of the door, where the Minister would never see him.  
  
He had moved none too soon, as the door opened and the foremost wizard in Britain entered, wearing his favourite pinstriped emerald suit and bowler. The man looked and acted terrified, as well he should. If Death Eaters could abduct a professor from inside the very walls of Hogwarts, where would he be safe from them?  
  
"Albus, I cannot tell the public about this! They would vote me out of office." BANG!! The wizened headmaster had slammed his open hands onto his desk to silence the man, and Remus turned to face them both with a book in hand, as if the scene had been rehearsed.  
  
"Cornelius, you can no longer lie to the public. They will not stand for it any longer." Albus was snarling at the Minister. "Now sit!" The ancient wizard pointed at a stiff-backed wooden chair, and the frightened visitor obeyed, his precious bowler gripped tightly in both hands. On cue, Lupin moved forward to greet Fudge.  
  
"Minister Fudge. I'm sure you remember me. Remus Lupin, we met almost a year and a half ago in this very room." Fudge spluttered for a moment before finding his voice, not shaking the offered hand.  
  
"B-but. you're a werewolf!"  
  
"Not anymore." Lupin flashed his teeth in a mockery of a grin, having obviously retained nearly thirty years of the memories of the wolf's behaviour. That smile was meant for pure intimidation. "I have been kindly presented with a cure. As you might know, the full moon was just last night, and I didn't transform."  
  
Fudge looked as though he had just swallowed a lemon-whole. Severus glided from the shadows in his most threatening manner, a sneer on his lips.  
  
"You knew I was attempting a cure, Minister. I will have credit for this one." He was still needled by the fact that he had been denied a patent on the Wolfsbane. "You should listen to the headmaster, Fudge. He knows all about people." He's probably taught a good half of those who can vote in this country. His word means a great deal to a great many.  
  
"Now, Cornelius," Albus spoke, his soft tone belying his fury. "Not only have you been lying to your constituents, you have been trying to tarnish the reputations of two of their favourite public figures: Harry Potter and myself. Did you know that fifteen-year-old boy sees nearly every attack where Voldemort is present?" The plump little man shuddered as the forbidden name was uttered. "He wakes in the middle of the night with nightmares, reliving the Third Task, his account of which you so callously dismissed as ravings of a disturbed mind. He is one of six reasons this school escaped massive damage last night, one of the reasons there are no casualties among the staff and students. Yes, Minerva has been abducted, but she is unhurt. Now, if you don't mind," and Albus turned to his grate, "I must fire-call Ms. Skeeter and let her know what has occurred for her article in the evening edition." A careless hand motioned in the direction of the door. "Have the Aurors take the prisoners off my hands. This is a school, not a detention centre for heinous criminals." As Albus pulled down his pot of Floo Powder, Fudge fled the room, white with terror. The door banged closed, and Severus howled with laughter.  
  
"Did. did you see the look. the look on his face?" he gasped between paroxysms. "Like he. he saw a ghost!" He was laughing so hard he didn't even notice the ghost float through the wall.  
  
"Well hello to you too, Severus." At Myrtle's exasperated tone, the Potions Master blinked and began to calm down. The spectre turned to the headmaster with a frown. "Violet said Min was kidnapped. Is it true? She was so nice to me while I was alive."  
  
Albus sighed and took off his half-moon glasses. "Yes, Myrtle, it is. Tom has her, and we have had no luck finding him so far. Have you?"  
  
"Not yet, sir. I'll get right back on it. You'll want location, defences, and wards, I imagine?" There was a steely glint in the shade's eyes, and she even had a bit of colour in her. The Dark Lord would regret the day he made Moaning Myrtle so irritated.  
  
"Yes dear. Be careful." The ghost simply nodded before zooming back out through the same wall.  
  
Severus blinked. "Myrtle is trying to find him? Why?" Albus' smile gave him chills. It was as vicious as the one Remus had shown Fudge.  
  
"Tom killed her. She wants vengeance. Much better for her to be our spy than someone living who can actually be hurt. It was the idea of Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy." Severus nodded. Trust those two to come up with something so ingenious. "Now, Severus, breakfast will be served soon, and the Interim Deputy Headmaster should be there before he has classes." Blink. "Shoo, Severus. Your students need you." The lean professor fled before he completely lost his composure, Lupin's amusement floating down the staircase after him. By the time he reached the Great Hall, he was the normal snarky Severus Snape again.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
{Haaaarry.} Groggily, the teenager began to wake to the sound of his name. {Harry, time for breakfast.} The last word drew him upright in his bed, the covers pooling in his lap. Only then did he realize that the soprano voice had been entirely in his head. He briefly fondled the silver band on his left hand before climbing out of the four-poster.  
  
~I will retaliate, Gin. For God's sake, it's only half six!~ He heard a fleeting mental giggle and decided to get up anyway. After all, he would have the showers mostly to himself at this hour.  
  
Twenty minutes later, the tall boy wore a fluffy red towel around his waist and was briskly drying his hair with another when Seamus walked into the bathroom. The blond Irish boy stopped and looked his roommate up and down slowly. The lingering gaze had Harry squirming before Finnegan spoke.  
  
"Bloody hell, Harry. When're ye gonna stop growin'?" The other Gryffindor stepped up next to him and looked in the mirror. "I mean, last year ye were th' only one not sprouting, and now ye jus' don' stop. Yer robes is gettin' short again. I doubt there's anythin' left for th' house-elves to let out." Harry blinked at the reflection. Seamus barely made it to his eyes. Two weeks ago, they'd been even.  
  
"I think the Dursleys were stunting my growth," the raven-haired boy mused. He slung the extra towel over his shoulder and raked a hand through his unruly locks in a half-hearted attempt to settle them. "Besides, I've been doing loads more physical work this year. It's put a lot of muscle on me." Instead of being skinny, as had been the case halfway through the summer, the young man was now simply lean, with whip-cords of muscle taut on every inch of his body. Well, maybe not every inch.  
  
Seamus turned out to be right about his clothes, as usual. His trousers were a good two inches above his ankles again, his trainers were pinching his toes, and his robes were dangerously tight across his shoulders. He was going to have to stop into Gladrags soon.  
  
Later, Harry was double-checking his Potions homework for the day and waiting for the rest of the group to appear. As the time neared half seven, Draco managed to make a dramatic entrance in the near-empty commons.  
  
{Are they all idiots?} the white-blond boy asked, looking at Harry. {Even Nev's already gone to breakfast.} The darker boy just shrugged in return. When he noticed the glare from the former Slytherin, however, he strengthened his shields.  
  
{EVERYONE UP! FRONT AND CENTRE! GRUB TIME!} Even with full shields, Harry winced at the mental parade-ground voice. That would wake Ron.  
  
{Oi, loudmouth, shut it!} Ginny's soprano scolded. The girl paused. {Bloody hell, it's half seven! Coming immediately, sir!}  
  
{I was almost done, you blockhead!} Lavender chided. {I would have been down in five.}  
  
{Hunh?} Ron's baritone, unlike the girls' voices, was rough with sleep.  
  
{I'll get Sir Lazybones,} Hermione's crisp alto reassured. {Go on, we'll catch you up.}  
  
~All right. See you downstairs, 'Mione.~ Harry sighed. If anyone could wake Ron, it was the redhead's girlfriend. The two boys waited for their own girlfriends to join them before hefting their booksacks and climbing through the portrait hole. The Fat Lady sniffed a tearful "Good morning" at them as they left, a lacy hankie clutched in her hand still.  
  
"I wonder if last night's. incident. will be in the Daily Prophet this morning," Ginny commented. Every clump of students they passed was whispering, and it was all too easy to hear snatches of the conversations, all mentioning something that had happened the previous evening.  
  
"Dunno," Draco replied with a shrug. "They might print a special evening edition if they couldn't get enough information by press time. I wouldn't be surprised if Aunt Rita got the article." Harry responded with a noncommittal grunt, sinking into his own thoughts about the battle.  
  
If I'd thought of my broom sooner, Professor McGonagall might still be here and safe, he thought. It's my fault they got away. His dark musing was interrupted by a sharp elbow to the ribs. He looked up to meet a pair of chocolate eyes.  
  
{Stop blaming yourself,} Ginny's soprano hissed in his head. {You did everything you could. Besides, you got Myrtle to help. Give yourself some slack. You don't have to be a perfect hero.} As she bespoke him, the auburn-haired girl slipped her hand into his. The warm silver of her promise ring gave him a fuzzy, pleasant feeling as it touched his skin.  
  
~Sorry, love. I can't help but feel responsible. I guess it's just something I do.~ He squeezed the petite girl's hand. As they sat down, he continued to hold the delicate hand, only letting go when Ginny made to free it. Draco and Lav, noticing this behaviour, glanced at each other oddly.  
  
"Ahem." Harry cleared his throat pointedly. "I'd rather you talked to me, not about me." Draco sighed and massaged his temples, while Lav threw up her hands and rolled her eyes before smearing marmalade on a slice of toast.  
  
Hermione and Ron arrived about five minutes later, both gasping for breath and Ron still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. As usual, the gangly boy ploughed into a bowl of porridge. Hermione sat down calmly and began to butter several slices of toast before reaching for the strawberry preserves.  
  
At ten minutes until eight, Dumbledore strode into the Great Hall. Conversations at the House tables hushed as he made his way up to the head table. The elderly wizard stood for a moment beside his chair there, Snape seated on one side and McGonagall's empty chair on the other. The few murmurings of the students ceased.  
  
"Last night, Voldemort attacked this school, giving us a glimpse at his plans. Professor McGonagall was abducted during the skirmish, despite the efforts of those fighting on our side. Many of the Death Eaters were captured, including one of the men who orchestrated last year's attempt on the life of Harry Potter. Because this man has been apprehended, another man will go free who has been wrongly imprisoned." The headmaster looked directly at Harry, and he felt a swell of joy. The bearded man could only mean that Fudge was pardoning Sirius. The raven-haired Gryffindor had to stifle a cheer as the wizened man continued to speak. "While Voldemort may have taken Professor McGonagall from our presence, we have taken one of his most prized servants and, at the same time, freed a powerful ally for the Light."  
  
With a deep Breath, Dumbledore folded his hands and made his last announcement. "Until our Deputy Headmistress is returned to us and in full health, I will be teaching Transfiguration classes, and Madam Hooch will take the duties of Gryffindor's Head of House. Professor Snape will be the temporary Deputy Headmaster. Efforts are underway as I speak to find our missing Professor. The best thing all of you can do is to go on with your daily lives. Voldemort wants most to disrupt your lives; life defeats him." The ancient wizard sat down, and murmurs broke out all over the room.  
  
"Impressive," Draco muttered. "Did he imply that Fudge saw the rat and freed Snuffles?"  
  
"Yup." Harry could feel a grin stretching from ear to ear. "Or at least as good as. That means we should be seeing Mr. Padfoot any time now."  
  
"What about Mr. Padfoot?" Fred asked, leaning forward to peer down the table at the group. Lee Jordan's dreadlocks and George's red hair joined Fred.  
  
"Come down here so we don't have to yell at you," Ginny said scornfully, and the three seventh-years obeyed quickly, sitting at the end of the table with the Dream Team.  
  
"Mr. Prongs was my father," Harry murmured, just loud enough for the prankster trio to hear. Fred dropped his spoon into his porridge with a loud plop.  
  
"Moony is Professor Lupin, Wormtail is Peter Pettigrew and the real betrayer of the Potters, and Padfoot is Sirius Black, Harry's godfather." Ginny's voice was low and secretive. Ron gripped Harry's shoulder supportively before speaking.  
  
"Pettigrew faked his own death at Sirius' hands and hid as a rat for twelve years. In fact, he was very close to Harry here at Hogwarts. He was Scabbers." The disgust coloured the older boy's voice.  
  
"Merlin. You mean Perce's rat is the reason an honorary Weasley has to live with awful Muggles?" George asked. The entire younger group nodded as one.  
  
"I'll thrash the bastard when I find him." Fred growled. A wry smile spread across Draco's pale features.  
  
"He's somewhere in the castle, if you want to go looking. As long as Sirius is officially free first, you're welcome to him. He's the important Death Eater Dumbledore mentioned." The vicious smirks in response to the statement made each of the six teens shudder.  
  
{Remind me never to get on their bad side,} Hermione telepathed. {I'd really hate to be in the rat's shoes.}  
  
"Speaking of the rat," Harry piped, perking up a bit. Abuse to Wormtail did that to him. "Who got him?" The older trio took this question as their cue to leave, picking up their knapsacks as they stood.  
  
"I think it might have been me," Ron admitted sheepishly. "I can't be sure, because the rage had me well and good, but I think I nearly took his head off." The gangly redhead made a sweeping gesture with one hand to mimic what he had done several times during the battle with paws the size of frying pans.  
  
"Wicked job, mate. I think I broke several wand arms, myself." Draco wore a vaguely gleeful look on his narrow features.  
  
"A lot of our damage might have been just the impression we made, though," Harry said thoughtfully. Two of the biggest felines in the world, a hawk, and a huge constrictor would probably scare anyone.  
  
"I thought Professor Snape was going to faint when he saw Harry and Ron," Lavender commented. "Draco and SkyStrike didn't bother him at all, but you two did." The blond boy's face met his hands for the second time that morning.  
  
"Bloody hell," he moaned. "I forgot. His only phobia is big cats." The others exchanged incredulous looks. "It's because they're the only large animals that can actually sneak up on him and do him harm. Uncle Sev hates being taken by surprise." This time, everyone nodded in understanding.  
  
"Well then, we should apologize after Potions." Harry groaned at Hermione's statement. They had double Potions again. How could he have forgotten when he had been reviewing the homework only an hour ago?  
  
"Well, I'm off to Herbology," Ginny declared, slinging her bag over one shoulder. "I'll see you at lunch." The auburn-haired girl bent to brush her lips briefly against Harry's before heading for the door. The boy sighed, raking a hand through his ebony locks.  
  
"Oi, mate, what time is it?" Ron asked him. With a move that was now habit, Harry slipped his father's pocketwatch into his hand an thumbed the catch. Inside, the mundane clock read 7:55, and the magical "Time to sprint to Potions." Five hands stood on that legend, with Ginny's at "Going to class," Remus' at "Reading a good book," and Sirius' at "Wandering Hogwarts."  
  
"Time to go," Harry replied, grinning. Whoever had enchanted the watch must have had a good sense of humour. Why else would the watch tell him to sprint to Potions or Divination, while his other classes always read "head for" unless he was late?  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Draco fidgeted throughout the long Potions class. He didn't know how Uncle Sev was going to react to the group's capabilities. Of course, the blond knew what the reactions to the animals would be. The man would be impressed with the owl and rabbit, aww over the cardinal, and fawn over the constrictor, but the panther and lion would have him quaking in fear.  
  
When the Slytherins and Gryffindors left the room, the blond stepped toward his godfather. Once again, Neville had managed to avoid disaster in his least favourite class.  
  
"Er, Uncle Sev?" he asked. The Potions Master looked up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. The rest of the mass, heavily conditioned as usual, was tied into a queue with a strip of dark green silk.  
  
"Yes, Draco?"  
  
"Sorry if any of us scared you last night." A blank look was all the response he got. "With our Animagus forms, I mean." Realization dawned on the older man's sallow features.  
  
"I see. Was Mr. Weasley the lion?" Draco felt a wry grin tug at the corners of his mouth.  
  
"Yes, sir. Harry is the panther, and I'm the boa." His godfather glanced at Lavender and Hermione, and the blond continued. "Lav is a cotton-tailed rabbit, 'Mione a barn owl, and Gin a cardinal." The smile on the professor's lips relieved the former Slytherin.  
  
"Well, then, I hope I don't have to watch for sneak attacks." There was a warning tone in Uncle Sev's voice, and the man leaned forward to speak quietly. "At least I know who the beasts are." Draco had to smother a snigger. Severus sat back and waved off the group of Gryffindors. "Go on. You don't want to be late for your first class with the headmaster." Cheeky smiles and scurrying feet were the wordless answer.  
  
Outside the Transfiguration classroom, the other six fifth-year Gryffindors were chattering, waiting for Dumbledore. The door was closed and evidently locked.  
  
"Oi, Harry!" Dean Thomas called. "What d'you think the old man will do?" Harry's groan was just barely audible. Draco simply put his head in his hand before answering for his friend.  
  
"He hasn't a clue, Dean. None of us do, because Dumbledore is a barmy old coot, and he knows he is. What does an insane person teach?" The dark- skinned student frowned and leaned against the wall, pulling a sketchbook from his satchel and flipping through it. The blond thought he glimpsed a dancing couple among the rough drawings, but he decided to ask in the common room after classes.  
  
Two minutes later, the classroom door audibly unlocked, and the other Gryffindors charged inside, leaving the Dream Team to find five seats in the back. As usual, Dumbledore wore deep purple robes, these stitched to resemble the night sky. The wizard's half-moon glasses rested high on his prominent nose. His examination of the smiling man over, Draco took in the classroom.  
  
Simple stone and blackboards had been replaced with a skilful reproduction of a sunny summer day. Trees in full leaf stood in small clumps around rolling green hills. The floor beneath the desks was a gently sloping hillside, and the front of the classroom was a level spot in a valley. Four trees bore three large canvasses where the blackboards had been. The desks had changed from stark wood to elegant sculptures of stone and wood, and the stiff, uncomfortable chairs were now more padded and relaxed, though not enough for one to fall asleep. Stunned by the changes, Draco stared at the headmaster.  
  
"Welcome to my class," the ancient wizard intoned, spreading his arms. "You may have realized this does not look like your normal classroom. In fact, for now, the castle is kindly connecting this room to the door of your regular classroom to minimize confusion. This room was originally created by a Professor John Fairbanks, who taught Transfiguration before I came here. Over the years, I have made a few improvements. This room is its own small reality. One can walk quite a ways in any direction, but the only way out I know of is through the door in the tree." Indeed, there was a large tree to the right of the canvasses, and a simple door on the side was closed.  
  
{Wicked,} Ron's baritone murmured. From the astonished looks of the rest of the class, it seemed to be unanimous. Transfiguration was everyone's new favourite class.  
  
What is going on with Neville in Potions? Where is Minerva? What will Voldemort do to her? Find out next chapter!  
  
Beth Weasley 


	23. In which there are many discoveries

A/N- Yeah, I know. I've put this chapter off far too long. However, I do have a good reason. I got a job at fast food in the beginning of July, for one, and the boys were being very unruly about how much space they were getting in Chapter 24. Seriously, they were about to start hitting each other! I got a lot of help from Endora on the Dream Team's nicknames, and I think I have them finalized. Hopefully Chapter 24 should be coming to you soon. If the boys will behave.  
  
Hey, I resent that remark.  
  
Really? And who was saying that he was the main character, not Sev? Who was complaining that Sev had more pages?  
  
*rolls eyes* Yes, really. I just had that much because I learned so much in the chapter.  
  
And then I barely get any.  
  
Will you three shut up so I can get on with typing up this chapter? Geez.  
  
Bonds of Pain  
  
Chapter Twenty-three (finally)  
  
In which there are many discoveries  
  
"What the hell is going on?" Severus muttered. November was drawing to a close, and Neville Longbottom had not created a disaster in his class since the end of September. Exasperated by this change in the normally clumsy student, he finally stopped the youngster after class.  
  
"Oh, that?" the boy replied nonchalantly to his query. "Mum asked Gran how I was doing in my classes, and Gran wrote me about it. And Luna has been helping me, too." Luna Lovegood, a particularly odd Ravenclaw, had recently been seen in Longbottom's company by many staff members. Dismissing the teenager, Severus sat back and thought about the possibilities. If Frank and Aurelle Longbottom were improving, it boded well for the Light. Cruciatus damage to the mind might eventually repair itself. Victims like the Longbottoms would be able to testify against torturers who had not been caught in the act.  
  
Pushing aside the slew of happy thoughts, the Potions Master wondered how Minerva was and how she was holding up. He knew his colleague was a tough and brave woman, but it had been almost a month. He shuddered at the thought of what the Dark Lord might have done in the time that Minerva had been missing. Without hesitation, Severus sent a silent prayer to whatever gods might be listening, adding a plea for the safety of his Wen.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Harry bid his dorm mates good night late Wednesday evening, crawling under the warm covers. He paused for his bedtime ritual-a prayer for all those on his side of the growing war, those trapped between or unwillingly on the other side, and most especially, Professor McGonagall. Four weeks to the day had passed since her abduction. Four weeks with no visions from his scar, no success on Myrtle's search, nothing from Lavender's attempts as a Seer. The silence was infuriating. The entire school was walking on eggshells despite Dumbledore's advice, and both Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout had burst into tears for no obvious reason in front of students. Sirius waited for freedom, entangled in legal limbo. Remus fumed about Fudge constantly. The Minister was doing everything wizardly possible to keep both of the Marauders wrapped in red tape until the days they died. Mentally cursing the obstructive idiot, Harry pulled the scarlet coverlet up to his chin and closed his eyes, falling into a restless sleep.  
  
~* Dream *~  
  
He was in a large, dark room. Coals glowed in the grate, and the full moon shone through a barred window, illuminating a small figure seated on the huge bed. Outside, snow-covered crags dominated the landscape. As Harry approached the figure, , he saw wavy, jet black hair falling down the woman's back and pooling on the dark green bedspread. Knees clutched to her chest, the woman heaved a dry sob, as if she had cried so much she had run out of tears.  
  
"How many times do I have to tell him no? Fifty-odd years, and it still hasn't gotten through his thick, rotten skull that I don't want him even touching me. He kidnaps me and locks me up in this old castle in the Alps, then has the gall to cast wards so I can't do even the simplest magic, not even a transformation." Harry recognized the woman's voice, though it was hoarse and harsh. It was his missing professor. A second glance out the window told him that the Alps were a definite possibility for her location.  
  
"Professor, are you all right?" he asked, hoping the witch could hear him somehow. "Has he done anything to you?" He was surprised when the professor looked directly at him and spoke.  
  
"Poor Harry. I know you must be blaming yourself for not reaching me in time on Halloween. It's not your fault. They would have gotten away with me no matter what. Tom, the bastard, hasn't touched me yet. At least, not to harm me. He attempts to woo me every night, but I don't know how much longer he'll be able to keep a rein on his temper. If you're really here and hearing me, instead of a figment of my imagination, I know that I am in the Alps, though not exactly where. I glimpsed the Citadel on my way here, just before my captors landed. I know you're looking for me. You wouldn't be the Harry I know if you weren't. Be careful, child. If you and your friends insist on coming on Albus' rescue mission, take every possible precaution. I don't know where Tom is keeping my wand, but Albus knows where in my quarters to find my spare. Be safe, dear child. Be safe." Having spoken her piece, the teacher buried her face in her knees again, sobbing. Harry could feel himself fading.  
  
~* End Dream *~  
  
. and sat up in his bed with a start. Had McGonagall just summoned his sleeping spirit to her? No matter how it had been accomplished, he was sure of one thing: what he had seen and heard was the gospel truth. There hadn't been even a hint of Riddle in the dream, not even the taint Harry felt when his dreams were being watched by the slimy git. He hoped the older witch had some sort of self-defence training that didn't require a weapon or a wand. A tentative touch on his scar bond told the green-eyed boy that his nemesis was about to explode.  
  
Grabbing one of his fountain pens and a scrap of parchment from his nightstand, Harry scrawled a quick message for his room mates.  
  
Had a dream. Gone to see Dumbledore.  
  
He hoped his friends could decipher his sloppy handwriting if they woke up while he was gone, but he had bigger things on his mind. He slipped out of bed, grabbed a pair of socks from his open trunk, and padded out of the room, stopping only briefly in the common room to put on the thick Dobby- socks before climbing out the portrait hole and flying down the corridor, He vaguely heard the Fat Lady ask what he was up to this time.  
  
Sliding to a halt on the polished flagstones in front of Dumbledore's gargoyle, Harry fought for balance. "Three Musketeers," he gasped, the stone beast leaping aside for him immediately. The stairs didn't even register, as the dark-haired Gryffindor found himself banging his fist on the office door rather loudly, calling for the headmaster.  
  
The wizened warlock was soon opening the door, dressed in a bright blue housecoat and orange nightcap. Harry realized then that it was more early than late.  
  
"What has you knocking on my door at half two, Harry?" the old wizard asked, gesturing his student into the room. The green-eyed boy took a moment to catch his breath.  
  
"I have a general idea of where Professor McGonagall is being kept." The news fully woke Dumbledore. "Somewhere in a large mountain range. She said the Alps because she saw the Citadel on the way there. Anti-magic and anti-animagus wards, and her wand has been taken away from her. She said you'd know where her spare was."  
  
"Wait. 'She said?' Did you speak to her?" Harry hung his head.  
  
"No, sir. She acted as though she was thinking of me and seeing me before her and thinking aloud. I know it was her, though, and I know she was saying everything at the same time as I dreamt it. I didn't even feel Tom in the background." Dumbledore beamed at him.  
  
"Excellent. Was there anything else in the dream?"  
  
"Well. she told me to stop blaming myself for Halloween, Tom tries to seduce her nightly, and to take every precaution on the rescue mission."  
  
"Sound advice and useful knowledge, my boy. We might be able to do Voldemort some bodily harm as well as egotistical once Myrtle finds the specific location. This narrows down her search field considerably." The old man sat back and ran a hand along his stocking cap, briefly revealing a glowing red ball at the end. "Go back to bed, Harry. You wouldn't want to fall asleep in Potions."  
  
Not with the way Nev keeps surprising Professor Snape, I don't, the slender boy thought on his way back to the Tower. It's a good thing Draco offered to tutor the both of us. I need that class the next two years to become an Auror if I survive school. It also helped that the professor himself was less hostile this term. When he reached the Tower, the Fat Lady scolded him for running off at such an hour, but he apologised and gave a brief explanation, which seemed to mollify her. He was soon back in the fifth-year boys' dormitory, where he dropped into bed and immediately returned to his interrupted slumber, still wearing both the Dobby-socks and his glasses.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Two weeks passed, and with them, fall term exams. Over two thirds of the school was packing to go home for Christmas holidays. Many Muggle families simply could not relocate to the castle or other safehouses run by Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, and their children were returning home for the holidays. None of the Dream Team bothered to pack at all. The Weasley clan was installed in a set of rooms near the staff quarters, and Mrs. Weasley had been baking cookies for Gryffindor House every day since the middle of November. Dobby had been only too glad to deliver the delicious-smelling trays each afternoon. The Grangers were often found in the Library, and Draco no longer wondered where his bushy-haired friend's inquisitive nature originated.  
  
Lavender had dragged her boyfriend to meet her parents after they arrived, and he had ended up relieving many of their fears when it came to items that were commonplace to wizarding folk. The couple still shied from time to time when they were spoken to by a mirror or portrait.  
  
Quidditch was the only change in the school's schedule, despite the increase in population. Because Professor McGonagall was the only staff member who could keep a leash on Lee Jordan's commentary, the Gryffindor- Ravenclaw match-originally scheduled for mid-November-had been postponed indefinitely. Privately, Draco hoped they would get to play soon. He was catching a mild case of cabin fever.  
  
Since Harry's dream of McGonagall-of which the boy had informed the rest of them the very next morning-they had been summoned to Dumbledore's office three times a week for shielding lessons. Ron had picked up the wandless technique rather quickly, spending most of their lessons afterwards playing against McGonagall's personal chess set. The knights had complained at first of the absence of their mistress, but the looks from the students and headmaster had soon quelled those outbursts.  
  
After learning about the ranking of one's magical power based on the colour of one's shield, the Dream Team had been surprised to find that they were all shades of blue, save for two. Harry and Ginny both commanded walls of silver flames when they conjured their shields. While it was rare for anyone to have a silver shield, it was even more so for soulmates to have the colour. Though all six Gryffindors were out of the Tower more than any dozen other students put together, no one questioned their absences.  
  
Rue la Chambre had become a second home. Harry's false sun spell had been modified into a perpetually clear sky that kept the correct time, and the face of Salazar Slytherin was now a beautiful building that resembled a Parisian apartment building from the early nineteenth century. The snake columns were now permanently leafy trees providing a bit of shade during the daylight hours. The group had carved a while complex of rooms from the rock behind the building façade, and they now had a potential escape if the castle was overrun by Death Eaters. From the Chamber, it was possible to wage guerrilla war on any force occupying the castle. Harry had even figured out the charm on the entrance and modified it to respond only to hissing or Parseltongue from Dream Team members. In this process, he had discovered that Ginny's encounter with Riddle's diary had left her, too, with the rare ability the Dark Lord assumed he alone possessed.  
  
The night after most of the students left for home, Draco went to bed as usual, pondering what to give his friends for Christmas. He still hadn't decided when he drifted into sleep. It seemed only seconds had passed when he was woken by a hoarse screaming from the next bed over. Harry's bed. Ron, who had moved into the dorm for the holidays, woke as well, though he was extremely groggy and confused.  
  
"Harry! Harry, mate!" the blond exclaimed softly. The bed was shaking, and he opened the curtains to see his best friend thrashing wildly, the covers torn and knotting around him. "Ron, come help me hold him down before he hurts himself!" The redhead reacted instinctively, sitting on the prone boy's legs as Draco held both arms firmly.  
  
{What the bloody hell is going on over there?} Ginny asked sleepily.  
  
~Vision. Violent one, too. Worse than All Saints'. Get your mum and Pomfrey, fast.~ He didn't spare the effort to elaborate, as much of it was needed to restrain his friend, whose struggles had only gotten stronger. Gods. He woke up the girls. Sure enough, Hermione and Lavender ran in moments later, both dishevelled and wearing dressing robes thrown over their nightclothes. Careless of their attire, the two young witches knelt on either side of the four-poster, each firmly taking hold of one of Harry's hands. Now able to move, Draco sat at the dark boy's head, placing the black mop in his lap and putting a hand to each of the sleeping- dreaming-boy's temples to prevent an injury.  
  
"TOM!" Harry shouted, his voice hoarse and raspy, almost the way it had sounded just a week before classes had started. "Leave her alone! You dirty, rotten bastard, I'll kill you for this!" Something bad was happening. Could it be McGonagall? All they could do was hold their friend down until Ginny came back with help. It was a good thing they were the only students in the Tower.  
  
With the aid of both the school's medi-witch and the experienced Mum Weasley, the vision was rapidly ended. Within twenty minutes, Harry had ceased the thrashing and screaming, instead balled up in the middle of his four-poster and flinching whenever anyone touched him. Worried, the group sat around him in silence, waiting for the black-haired Gryffindor to speak.  
  
"God, I'm going to make him wish he'd never been born," Harry rasped finally. "I hope he goes to the deepest, darkest corner of Hell and feels the pain of his victims for eternity." The vivid green eyes stayed closed.  
  
"What happened, love?" Ginny asked, her voice tender. She reached out and stroked the wild raven locks, and the distraught teen did not move. Her promise ring, on her left hand, shone in Draco's vision.  
  
"You don't want to know, Gin. It'd be even better if I didn't." Harry shivered again. "He. well, he forced Professor McGonagall." Draco shared a worried look with Ron. The five witches in the room were on the verge of tears.  
  
{This is really bad, Dragon.}  
  
~Absolutely. Harry will be reckless in his attempts for vengeance. We have to tell Dumbledore.~  
  
As if summoned, the aged headmaster walked into the room, stopping suddenly as he saw Harry. Great concern entered the wizard's expression, and he knelt next to the bed.  
  
"Harry? Merlin, what has happened?" The young man finally lifted his head, piercing Dumbledore with eyes that just barely flickered where they normally shone with lively fire.  
  
"He made her. God, I can't even say it. Professor McGonagall's been raped. I swear he'll pay. He'll be paying for it forever, if there's any justice in this world." At Harry's words, the ever-present twinkle of the Headmaster's eyes vanished, turning the bright blue into steel.  
  
"If only my news for you had come sooner. Myrtle has found the castle where Tom is keeping Minerva. The Order is trying to decide who will be going on the rescue mission as we speak. Molly, you may be needed as a mediator." Mrs. Weasley stood, nodding to Dumbledore before leaving the dormitory with purposeful strides.  
  
"I'm going, Professor," grated the young man on the bed. For a second time, Draco saw raging green fire in his best friend's eyes.  
  
"You'd best agree, sir," the blond warned. "Otherwise we'll end up going on our own. There's no way you're keeping us here when the Professor needs us." Dumbledore blinked at the Malfoy scion before he noticed the emerald stare with which his Golden Boy was fixing him.  
  
"Erm. Of course not. But we need to keep working on your magical protections. I will not risk your lives." Harry nodded at the aged wizard's statement. Suddenly looking very small and lost, the dark-haired Gryffindor wrapped the remains of the comforter around himself.  
  
"I'm all right now," Harry whispered. "I just want to be with my friends." Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey retreated quickly, and the Dream Team proceeded to smother their leader in a mass hug. As the lump of teens slowly broke apart, the boy almost looked vulnerable. "Could everyone stay in here for the rest of the night?"  
  
"Of course, Harry," Hermione replied. A deft flick of her wand produced six plump sleeping bags in the centre of the room. Within twenty minutes, six young witches and wizards were burrowed into the down-filled cocoons, out cold.  
  
Who will be going on the rescue mission? How will it turn out? What will the Dream Team do to old Mouldywarts this time? Find out next chapter! 


	24. In which there is a lot of fighting

Whee. That was fun. I put up 23, and I had a review within five hours. Thank you, Jordan! I tried not to leave you with a cliffie for very long this time. Honestly, I almost had 25 done when I posted that. Between my new job and my mom haggling me to get a career instead of a job, it's been a little nuts. I've changed my mind a little bit about the whole Black family thing. Poor Sirius will have to put up with certain of the people JKR has him related to in the books. Other OotP characters will also make cameo appearances. Plus, like I said, the boys would not play nicely. However, Harry and Sev had a lot of fun with this chapter.  
  
*smirks* Indeed I did. Very fun. New talents.  
  
Hey, you're not supposed to tell them, they're supposed to read the chapter and find out.  
  
*pouts* Go ahead, Potter, spoil my fun.  
  
Hey, now, let's just get on with the chapter. Of course, all the readers know Beth doesn't own us.  
  
Of course I don't. If I did, there's a lot of things that would be different.  
  
*sighs* Here we go again.  
  
11-12- *sighs and tries to format a little different* I can't believe the dragon-speak didn't show up. Hopefully this works. Argh.  
  
Chapter Twenty-Four  
  
In which there is a lot of fighting  
  
Ten days had passed with the school's student population reduced to a scant few handfuls. It was Christmas Eve, and Severus spent much of the morning carefully wrapping a gift for his godson. Though he could easily have used a charm, he folded the glaring orange paper by hand. Why the boy had chosen a losing team-a century of losses, in fact-to be his favourite escaped the Potions Master. A silver bow topped the double C's and cannonball paper, the gift tag peeking out underneath.  
  
As he set aside the finished package, Severus heard his fire whoosh with the heightened flames of Floo Powder. He turned to find his mentor waiting to speak to him.  
  
"Severus, I have your robes for tonight's mission." The headmaster held out a bundle wrapped in plain brown paper. Grimacing, the younger man took the twine-wrapped lump. Wondering what colours the older wizard had decided would look good on him this time. Of course, if he showed up in anything else, Albus would delay the mission while sending Severus to change. The embarrassment would be nauseating.  
  
"Yes sir. Five thirty at Hagrid's, you said?" The hut on the grounds had been mentioned as a possibility for their pre-mission rendezvous. Charlie Weasley was utilizing his unique talents to gather a group of draconic allies for transport. Mundungus Fletcher, a wizard only a few years older than himself and known to be on the shady side of many things but never Dark-a few bricks shy of a load, though-would be joining Severus and the two remaining Marauders in their attempt to retrieve Minerva's wand.  
  
"Correct, Severus. We should arrive at the castle shortly after dark. Until then, my boy." With a popping noise, Albus was gone. Six hours. Damn. He had time to eat lunch and then perform a good warm-up before getting changed and leaving the castle. He knew he had corned beef in the icebox for sandwiches, and there were probably crisps and Pepsi around somewhere. He was practically addicted to the sugary Muggle drink.  
  
At quarter before five, Severus stretched one last muscle and strode into his bedroom to open the package from Albus. Twine and paper fell away to reveal robes constructed in layers of gauzy yet durable fabric, roughly cut in the shapes of flames. The colours ranged from brilliant red-orange to a vivid green. Silver and gold stitching trimmed some edges, sparkling in the light. Holding the garments up, the sallow professor could see that anyone clad in such robes would seem like moving fire, and the cut, while loose, was close enough not to impede motion. Very important when going into battle. A green cloak lay in the bottom of the bundle, and silver flashed through the fabric as he lifted it. Slytherin colours, but bright and determinedly cheerful in contrast to the Dark Lord's preferred hues.  
  
Well, at least Albus was somewhat sensible. The cloak would hide the brightly coloured robes as he walked across the grounds. Any student who spotted him would assume he'd gotten out a fancy cloak for some occasion in Hogsmeade. Within ten minutes, the Potions Master's quarters were vacant.  
  
Severus escaped the stone walls and crossed snow-covered hills without seeing a single student. He was met at Hagrid's hut by two figures cloaked in a red that gleamed gold where the light hit it strongest. One gestured around the side of the building to the pen where the half-giant had penned hippogriffs two years earlier. Both followed him, dropping their cowls when the castle atop its frosted hill was out of sight. It was Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, as expected.  
  
It's a good thing I've patched up relations with these two, Severus thought wryly. It would be a mite difficult to trust my life in the hands of the pair I knew in school. Twelve years in Azkaban had matured and mellowed Black somewhat, as years of werewolf transformations by himself had done to Lupin.  
  
"Ready to do this, Severus?" Remus asked, his eyes gleaming in the fading sunlight reflected from the snow. The Potions Master nodded and looked to the third man, puzzled by the worried look borne by the former convict.  
  
"I'm ready, I'm just not sure if Harry's going to be all right. He's only fifteen-"  
  
"And he's been through at least as much as any of us, Padfoot." Remus' calm tone broke into Sirius' rant.  
  
"You didn't see the way he handled himself at Halloween, either." Severus shivered as he recalled the panther in action. "He'll be fine, and so will his friends. They can take care of themselves. Has Fletcher arrived yet?" He hadn't been particularly fond of the Hufflepuff during their years in school, but, then again, he hadn't been fond of many save Wen and Arabella.  
  
"He's late, as usual," Remus growled. The sound was faintly reminiscent of the wolf that had held him in thrall for thirty years.  
  
"I think he said something about cauldrons falling off the back of someone's broom. He hasn't changed a bit," Sirius commented, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.  
  
"And Charlie Weasley?" Severus wanted this damned mission over and done with as soon as possible. Maybe the Dark Lord would be out for the evening.  
  
"Waiting with eight dragons in the Forest. Firenze has. persuaded. the other centaurs to leave them alone for now." The way the ex-convict smirked at "persuaded" gave the lean professor chills. He had met the strange palomino centaur and did not want to see him mad.  
  
"Ahoy, there!" The fake pirate salute caused the heads of the three wizards to snap around. A man in gaudy yellow and black swooped in to land his broomstick and was met by a trio of identical glares.  
  
"You're late." The declaration of the three men was simultaneous and scornful. Though Dung, as he liked to be called, was a full three years older, he had all the maturity of the average first-year, if not less.  
  
"By Jove, did you think I'd pass off an opportunity like that?" the rotund Hufflepuff replied, his false pirate accent thick.  
  
"No," Severus snarled, "but Minerva's safety is more important than stolen cauldrons. You should have been here ten minutes ago."  
  
"Lighten up, Sevvie me lad. She's a braw lass." The Slytherin choked. Sevvie? Eurgh!  
  
"Let's just get going. I hope Harry's group is there already." Sirius stormed into the undergrowth, followed by the other three wizards.  
  
Halfway to the clearing where their transport waited, a thunderous roar shattered the winter quiet. To Severus, it was a vaguely familiar roar.  
  
"Sounds like Flame is out and about," Remus remarked. "The others will be with him for sure. It's hard to get them apart these days."  
  
"Don't tell me they have nicknames like the lot of you did," Severus groaned. Oh yes, he knew all about Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs now, though he hadn't two years ago when Potter's piece of parchment had insulted him. He glared when Black snorted with laughter.  
  
"They do," the blue-eyed wizard sniggered. "Flame you can probably guess. There's also Prowler, Powder, Redwing, Honey, and Sage." With a groan, Severus decided to look out for anything with one of those nicknames attached to it. They might be as dangerous as anything produced by the Weasley twins.  
  
Reaching the clearing at last, Severus' breath caught in his throat. Eight dragons stood in the clearing, one a gigantic Norwegian Ridgeback, the rest Hungarian Horntails. Though of a much smaller breed, the Ridgeback was nearly the same size as its companions.  
  
"Good evening, gentlemen," Charlie called from where he leaned against the Ridgeback's foreleg. "Make yourselves familiar with a few of our friends before we leave. They'll not bear anyone they don't know by smell, and I'd rather not leave anyone behind if we have to leave in a rush." Nodding, Severus watched as the two Marauders and the Hufflepuff held out their hands to be inspected by the Horntails.  
  
After a few minutes, nothing spectacular had happened. No one had been eaten, so the Potions Master felt safe enough to approach on of the female Horntails. The creature looked remarkably like the one Potter had flown against in the First Task, but he hadn't been looking that closely at the time. The great lady whuffed on his hand, lowering her head to nudge him playfully in the stomach.  
  
[I would be honoured to carry you, lord,] a lilting voice told him as the dragon grumbled deep in her chest. He blinked. Did she just talk to me?  
  
[We can make humans hear us when we wish, lord, but you can hear us even when we do not try.] The new information-he no longer doubted that it came from the majestic creature before him-took a moment to sink in.  
  
Wait. Me, a Dragon-speaker? Incredible! I never would have thought of it.  
  
[Not just a Dragon-speaker, lord,] the female corrected. [A Dragon Lord.]  
  
How? Severus thought. There had not been a Dragon Lord recorded since the Middle Ages. Even the Dragon-speakers were rare, though the professor had a sneaking suspicion that Charlie Weasley might have the dubious honour of the talent.  
  
[I do not know, lord.] With a graceful movement, the dragon had laid her head on the ground at his feet, her wings along the ground to either side of her massive body. [I abase myself before thee, Dragon Lord. With humility, Stenriya of the Black Sea offers her service.]  
  
I accept thy service, Stenriya. In turn, I pledge to thee what protection and care I might give. The thought came to him of whole cloth, phrasing and all, and he placed a hand on the scales between the great golden eyes. A surge of powerful magic-he could feel it binding them-flowed between Severus and the dragon. When he regained his senses, Stenriya stood over him, wings wrapped protectively around them both and her massive head over his shoulder.  
  
"Erm, Professor Snape?" At Charlie Weasley's voice, Stenriya quickly pulled back and furled her wings. Obviously, Albus and the Dream Team had arrived at some point. Eleven pairs of eyes stared at him, some with wonder, some in confusion, and some in plain old fear.  
  
"It's all right," he said shakily. His voice didn't betray him for long. "Shall we get a move on? The longer we stand here, the longer Minerva remains in his clutches." Galvanized by his statement and the accompanying glare, Charlie and the six students began to mount, the older Weasley on the Ridgeback and the Dream Team in pairs on Horntails.  
  
[Denyan should be honoured that Harry Potter is in his charge,] Stenriya remarked. [The boy wizard is a superb flyer, despite his unfortunate lack of wings.] The dragon lowered her shoulders towards the ground in order to aid Severus' clamber to her back. Mundungus and Albus each claimed their own perches atop the other two females, and the two Marauders shared the fifth bull dragon. With a few sweeps of sixteen mighty wings, the group was airborne, bearing south and a bit east. Severus had just gotten used to the odd up-and-down motion of flight when Stenriya turned her head to view him with one golden eye.  
  
[Hold on tight, my lord,] she cautioned. He had only just managed to tighten his grip on her spinal ridge when everything lurched and he found himself momentarily in the deepest blackness and cold he had ever seen or felt. With another gut-wrenching jerk, the dark was replaced with snowy peaks sparkling in the light of the waxing moon. A castle, dark and brooding, perched on the sheer side of a mountain straight ahead. Severus only peripherally noticed the other dragons blinking into existence on either side.  
  
That was unsettling, to say the least.  
  
[One of the reasons the people rarely use such a method of travel.] Stenriya sounded half-exhausted. The Potions Master smacked the thick scales in front of his knee a few times in both congratulations and thanks. The flight landed gracefully in the centre of the keep, the Ridgeback gleefully toasting a group of Death Eaters on the ground.  
  
Severus was startled when Potter's group leaped from their dragon allies with wordless battle cries. Watching as they charged the castle doors, he noticed their armaments for the first time. While they wore cloaks similar to his, underneath they wore armour instead of robes. The metal gleamed and pulsed with protective enchantments, and they bore an assortment of weapons. He wasn't terribly surprised to see the gleaming silver sword of Gryffindor in Potter's hand, but the giant bastard sword Draco bore shone with blue and bronze magic. It could be nothing but the legendary blade forged by the boy's ancestress. The knowledge that his godson was well protected made him a bit easier as he slid down Stenriya's flank.  
  
"Go!" Albus shouted at him. Obediently, with his wand drawn, Severus sprinted to join his three comrades as they stormed through the portal opened by the Dream Team. The thick oaken door was shattered, splinters as long as his forearm scattered through the vestibule. Several black-robed wizards lay in the hall, either groaning in pain or lying eerily still. The quartet turned away from the destruction. Their target, Minerva's wand, lay in the opposite direction.  
  
Later, Severus would recall that Dung had begun singing a particularly bawdy pirate ballad at that point. He would never be sure of how long they fought in the twisting corridors, hexes and curses flying in almost every direction. A few minutes, however, would stand out in his memory.  
  
At the base of a tower-part of their goal-a black-haired woman confronted them, announcing herself by grazing Lupin with the Cruciatus. The man did not scream, nor did he fall to the floor writhing in pain as most were wont to do. He simply shook himself briefly.  
  
"Not much compared to a werewolf transformation. It lasts much longer," he said offhandedly. Sirius, however, squinted briefly and then openly glared at the woman, who wore neither mask nor cowl.  
  
"Bellatrix," he snarled. "Fancy meeting you here." The woman scowled back at him.  
  
"Blood traitor! Scum!" she hissed. "You should have died! Crucio!" The spell's red sparks flew towards the Animagus, only to shatter as a wall of electric blue flames spread from his empty left hand.  
  
"No wonder you became an Auror, with a shield like that," Severus murmured. Blue was near the top of the scale, only surpassed by the exceedingly rare silver.  
  
"His ego doesn't need inflation," Remus sighed, rolling his eyes. "It's big enough as it is."  
  
Sirius snorted as Dung lazily stunned two Death Eaters who were trying, very unsuccessfully, to sneak up on them. "I never did like you, Bellatrix. Of course, I've known why for a while now." Turning away from the witch, he turned a fleeing wizard into a statue. "She's always been my least-favourite cousin." Severus smirked in reply and flicked a stunner, causing Bellatrix Lestrange to crumple. She hadn't even the most rudimentary shield in place. So much for one of the Dark Lord's best minions.  
  
Mundungus, in his juvenile fashion, kept up the pirate act, kicking in the door that had been guarded by Bellatrix. Just two hits from the powerful man proved sufficient to knock out the bar on the other side, and a third sent the door bouncing off the stone wall.  
  
"Dung," Remus said patiently, "would you please put a sock in the pirate schtick?"  
  
"Ach, no, matey. Variety 'tis the spice o' life!" The three younger wizards groaned as they followed the Hufflepuff up the winding stairs. Minerva's wand was at the very top, and dozens of Death Eaters attempted to accost them on the stairs. The fiery blue shield flared more than once, absorbing some spells and reflecting others.  
  
Upon finally reaching the tower's pinnacle, Severus was a bit surprised to find that the only furnishing inside was a short wooden column, topped with a velvet pillow bearing fourteen inches of cherry and dragon heartstring. The scene was suspicious.  
  
"Looks like a trap to me," Sirius muttered. The Potions Master, knowing what he did of the dark lord's mind, was quite inclined to agree.  
  
"Finite Incantatem, then?" Remus queried. He was answered by three grim nods. On a count of three, four spells hit the wand, and it bounced into the air and hovered. Dark green flames of magic licked along the length for a moment before similar crimson and gold tongues of fire overwhelmed them. When the emerald had completely gone, the red and gilt subsided to a glow around the wood. Safe.  
  
Severus reached out carefully and plucked the wand from mid-air, sighing in relief when there was no adverse reaction. The magical glow simply went out, but there was still a warning tingle of the wand telling him it didn't belong to him. The length of cherry went into a pocket in his robes as the lean man turned to his erstwhile companions.  
  
"What say we get out of here, gentlemen?" The suggestion was met with hearty agreement. The place was cold and depressing, and it was Christmas Eve. The quartet was soon fighting their way back to the courtyard where transport waited. If only the children have as little difficulty, Severus thought briefly.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Waking late in the dormitory on Christmas Eve, Harry found a bulky parcel at the end of his bed, identical ones waiting for Draco and Ron to rise. He glanced quickly at his pocketwatch, propped up on the nightstand. It was half eleven, and nearly time for lunch.  
  
"Gerrup, you two," he growled. Draco, the light sleeper of the trio, sat up and stretched, but Ron slept on. "Armour's here, and it's almost lunch," the dork-haired boy explained to his blond friend.  
  
"Well, let's wake Sir Temper Sleeps-a-lot, then." The former Slytherin stood shakily on his bed before leaping onto the third occupied four- poster, bouncing Ron a half metre into the air. The redhead jerked into consciousness in mid-flight.  
  
"Oi! Dragon!" the indignant teen bellowed. "Why'd you wake me up? I was having the most wicked dream-"  
  
"About Hermione," the other two boys chorused, causing Ron to flush. It was far too easy to tease him.  
  
"Well, for one," Draco stated, "it's just about lunch time, and we all know how you get when you miss more than one meal a day."  
  
"And two, Dumbledore's sent our armour. He did want to meet in that clearing at half five, right?" The redhead nodded as he gathered the package to himself. Dumbledore had involved the teen heavily in the planning of the raid on the Alpine castle once he discovered just how acute the young wizard's mind really was.  
  
Putting their lessons with the headmaster out of his mind, Harry tore into the brown paper of the parcel. Brilliant purple was the first thing to meet his eyes. The brightly coloured cloth turned out to be a cloak large enough to fit him for years, with a silver thread woven in that gleamed when light hit it just right. The armour underneath-breastplate, greaves, a complete suit save helm and charmed to be light, durable, soundless, and to deflect many spells-shone gold and was partially lacquered in red and violet. The colours of his ancestry.  
  
"Wicked," Ron murmured. Harry looked at his friend. The red cloak over the other boy's shoulder had gold highlights, and the teenager was holding up a silver breastplate, a coat of arms enamelled on it in red and gold. Draco had gently folded a similar blue cloak with bronze flashes over his lap and was methodically removing his own armour from the packaging. The bits Harry glimpsed matched the cloak.  
  
The raven-haired Gryffindor looked again at his golden breastplate. Enamelled in crimson, a lion rampant roared, a violet halo topping its voluminous mane. Gryffindor crowned with Merlin's power. His parents had died for those bloodlines, but Voldemort was going to pay.  
  
Just over four hours later, the Dream Team had once again retreated to their dormitories to prepare for battle. In silence, the boys buckled on the gleaming armour. It weighed no more than the robes they wore to classes, and made even less sound, even when pieces of metal knocked against each other. Yet more charms substituted for the padded suits knights had once worn beneath their own protection.  
  
Harry swung his violet cloak over his shoulders and looked at his two best mates. Draco was ready, just checking the buckles again with the dark blue cloak shimmering bronze as he moved. Ron was crouched to tighten his left greave, his cloak gold across the expanse of his back. The green-eyed Gryffindor looked down his left arm to check his wand strapped to his forearm and saw a flash of silver from his own cloak.  
  
"Ready, mates?" he asked. Both older boys nodded. They silently filed out of the room and down the stairs, meeting the other half of the group in the common room. Wordless yet meaningful glances were shared before hoods were pulled up and the edges of cloaks gathered together. Undisturbed, the Dream Team reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest fifteen minutes later and pushed through the underbrush at the edge.  
  
"We could get to the clearing faster if we transformed," Hermione commented. Harry nodded.  
  
"Draco and Lav should probably ride, though," he suggested. "We'll move faster, and they won't be exhausted afterwards." Flashing a grim smile, Harry quickly became the huge black panther that had spawned his nickname: Prowler. The blond in blue became his reptilian self-Powder-moments later, easily sliding up a furry leg and settling his not inconsiderable weight around the massive black neck like an exotic necklace.  
  
~Oh, so that's what dragons smell like,~ the great cat 'pathed to his companions as he sniffed the air. ~Not you, Draco. The ones Charlie has brought. I can smell him, too.~  
  
Ron blinked briefly before stroking the back of SkyStrike, who was perched on his arm. With a quick heave, the berserker hawk was in the air, and Ron transformed. The girls followed suit, Lav leaping to Flame's shoulders. With Sage and Redwing trailing SkyStrike, Flame roared and leapt forward. Honey cringed at the sound but maintained her perch. Prowler was quick to take the lead on the ground, Powder not hampering his movement at all.  
  
Upon arrival at the clearing, Harry was greeted with a stranger sight than he could ever have imagined. Hermione and Ginny were human again, standing with Sirius, Remus, Charlie, Dumbledore, and a man he didn't recognize. A female Horntail-looking oddly familiar-stood near the centre, her wings spread to encircle something-or someone. Her head was not visible, and Harry didn't see Professor Snape around.  
  
~Have to change back, mate. You're too heavy for me as a human, Draco. Ride's over.~ The constrictor quickly slid off before Harry changed forms. Ron and Lavender arrived then, rapidly doing likewise.  
  
"Where's Uncle Sev?" Draco asked, worry in his voice. Charlie wordlessly pointed at the Horntail. {Shite.} Finally, Charlie found his voice.  
  
"Erm, Professor Snape?" The strangled words caused the dragon to furl her wings and raise her head. Snape stood just before her, completely unharmed. He did look a bit shaken, but otherwise fine.  
  
"It's all right. Shall we get a move on?" The lean professor's voice was almost normal. "The longer we stand around here, the longer Minerva remains in his clutches." The wizard glared. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Harry headed for one of the Horntail bulls. He cautiously allowed the vicious-looking male to smell his hand before climbing the scales of its foreleg and settling himself between two of the spinal ridges. He turned to give Ginny a hand up and noticed the Norwegian Ridgeback in the group. It looked almost small in the midst of the Horntails, but the raven-haired Gryffindor tried to estimate its actual size. The figure he ended up with was nearly a quarter again what he remembered as being the average size for the species. Then he added in the fact that the Ridgeback looked familiar.  
  
"Hey Charlie," he called to the older Weasley. "Is that Norbert?" A crazy grin spread across the dragon handler's face as he nodded. "You might take him to see Hagrid later. It would make his day!" Charlie gave him a thumbs-up as the dragons began to lift into the air with great sweeps of outstretched wings.  
  
[Sir Prowler, Lady Redwing, hold on,] a deep voice warned in their heads as they rose above the treetops. Startled, Harry wrapped his hands firmly around the ridge in front of him. Ginny's arms wrapped around him securely just before a jolt nearly unseated them both. Complete darkness and cold surrounded him, and he couldn't feel or see the ridge in his grip, Ginny against his back, or the scaly shoulders upon which he sat. It only took moments, but it felt like an eternity. With another yanking motion, darkness became twilight over a snowy mountain range. A dark castle perched on a slope dead ahead, one tower marking each end. Little was needed for Harry to recall Myrtle's information.  
  
"When you approach, she's in the right-hand tower, at the very top."  
  
The emerald eyes were drawn inexorably toward that tower. A large window broke the expanse of stone just under the conical roof. Faint light shone through the glass in the falling night. He could almost feel the professor's rage and despair. Had some sort of link been forged between them on the night she summoned him while he dreamed?  
  
Pushing aside his speculations for the moment, Harry prepared himself for the landing. He made sure both his daggers and his sword-all the same artefacts that Godric Gryffindor had carried a millennium ago, of course- were just a little loose in their sheathes, ready to be drawn at need. His wand was bound to the inside of his left arm, easily accessible.  
  
As they winged into the keep's courtyard, Norbert keened and belched a great fireball onto a cluster of dark-robed defenders. The six students cheered, turning the cry into a battle roar as they leapt from their mounts. From that moment, Harry did little thinking and much acting. For a moment, it seemed as if magic coursed through his body, and the castle doors exploded inwards. Death Eaters screamed as they were skewered by chunks of oak.  
  
Instinct led Harry to the right along the corridor, long hours of training against the golems causing his blades to dart from target to target on reflexes. Nearly blind in his fury, the dark-haired Gryffindor was still able to avoid striking his bright-armoured companions.  
  
There were times, however, when Harry was lucid enough to capture details in his memory.  
  
Flash.  
  
Ron, moving so fast in the thrall of the Blood Rage that he was a blur of cloak and metal, his quarterstaff invisible as it cracked skulls and arms.  
  
Flash.  
  
Ginny, surrounded by a flurry of small, sharp blades, each dagger resting in its target for only a few seconds before flying back to its sheath on one of the two bandoliers or the belt worn by the petite redhead.  
  
Flash.  
  
Himself and Hermione, fighting back-to-back, swords and dirks flashing like serpent's tongues and twice as deadly.  
  
Flash.  
  
Lavender, her nunchaku forming circular blurs, one hand rising to crack a jaw..  
  
Flash.  
  
Draco, by for the most elegant in their elaborate dance of death, pulling blows to cause irritating nicks and cuts and driving his opponents to attack recklessly.  
  
Flash.  
  
The clearest vignette was Draco reflecting a spell from his polished blade, then whirling as a Death Eater leapt at him from behind. The Dark wizard was impaled in mid-air.  
  
With no proper sense of time, Harry had no idea how long they had fought when the spiralling tower stairs ended at a heavy oaken door. An iron- bound beam rested in hooks across both door and jamb to prevent it swinging inward. It was the work of a moment to heave aside the obstacle. The green-eyed teen didn't even bother with the latch, instead lashing out with a powerful side kick that shattered the stone jamb and bounced the door off the stone wall behind it just a few centimetres.  
  
"Who--?" The startled exclamation in the voice that had been stalking his dreams for six months stoked the rage inside Harry to fever pitch. A look around the room added unnecessary fuel to the fire. Voldemort had backed Professor McGonagall into a corner. The witch's black hair flowed down her back, her grey-green eyes wide with terror. To Harry's dismay, she was clad only in a thin shift.  
  
"Tom," he snarled, "Leave her alone." He crouched in front of the doorway, Godric's sword in his right hand and one of the daggers in his left. The violet cloak cascaded down his back, his armour gleaming in the faint candlelight. For a moment, he could see the skin of Voldemort's hairless scalp creep, as if trying to raise nonexistent fibres.  
  
"Care to make me, boy?" The menacing tone held just a shiver of uncertainty. The young Gryffindor stepped further into the room, his friend spreading out to either side. Draco and Ron stood to his left and right and just a step back, as if wingmen in an aerial battle. Each of the young women took up position beside her soulmate. "So, poor little Ginny Weasley has finally been able to snare her 'hero.' You'll watch him die, girl." The sneer aimed just over said hero's shoulder trembled a fraction.  
  
"Not likely, Tom, now or ever. You don't know this Harry Potter." He felt Ginny's left hand descend on his shoulder. "This Harry Potter is confident, well-trained, and backed by his friends, not frightened, ill- prepared and alone as you've always encountered him before." The words form the auburn-haired witch strengthened him.  
  
"Besides," Ron added casually, "We're all powerful in our own rights as well." SkyStrike, now perched on the lanky redhead's shoulder, mantled and shrieked.  
  
"Enough of this nonsense," the pale Dark Lord growled. Thirteen and a half inches of yew and phoenix feather pointed at Harry. "Crucio!" The spell jetted red sparks. Instinctively, the young wizard raised his left hand, still clutching the sinuous dagger. A curving wall of translucent silver flames sprang to life between the students and their foe, and the crimson was absorbed.  
  
"I'm not going to waste my magic on you, Tom," he sneered as the hand fell and the gleaming shield disappeared. Harry stepped forward and grinned when Voldemort took a corresponding step back. "Are you afraid, Tom? Of a fifteen-year-old? Were you afraid of me when I was one?"  
  
With a suddenness that nearly startled everyone in the room, the Dark Lord dashed past Harry for the door. The supposedly fearsome wizard stumbled and almost fell, but windmilled his arms and managed to stay on his feet. The green-eyed Gryffindor saw the cause a split second later. Ron had casually extended his quarterstaff along the floor, and the enemy has intersected it at ankle height. With lightning reflexes, the redhead snapped the cedar rod up for a humiliating and painful strike across the backside, propelling the megalomaniac wizard down the stairs.  
  
"Well, that takes care of him for now." Draco's nonchalant statement seemed to snap the professor out of a trance.  
  
"Oh, Circe." The witch's moan was followed by a brief movement. Harry found himself wrapped in her arms, her tears trickling through his armour to dampen the crimson turtleneck underneath. He stood there dazed and absently sheathed the dagger he held, using the hand to pat his professor's back.  
  
Confused, the raven-haired teen looked around, his emerald eyes catching Draco's polished silver orbs. A glimmer of laughter shone in the metallic eyes.  
  
{And the hero comforts the victim, yet cannot assuage the pain in his own heart.} The thought was a mere whisper across the bond, accompanied by a dry chuckle full of sympathy.  
  
~I don't know what to do with her, mate,~ he replied. ~Give me a hand here, will you?~ Wordlessly, the blond quirked a half-smile and gently took hold of one long, delicate hand.  
  
"Professor," the other boy murmured, "let's get you out of here." Somehow, the former Slytherin detached the woman from her death grip on the younger boy and gathered her, weeping, into his own arms. {She's freezing. Let's get her to Dumbledore.}  
  
The older boy made sense, so Harry unclasped his cloak and draped the warm but light fabric over the dark-haired witch's shoulders. She barely noticed, sobbing into Draco's shoulder. Without the faintest idea of how to deal with a traumatized woman, Harry simply turned towards the door, sword in hand. Any Death Eater who got in the way would pay dearly.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Hush, Professor," Draco murmured as he stroked the wavy black hair. "Come on now, it's time to go home." His arms still around McGonagall, he steered the witch out the door and down the stairs.  
  
"Harry," the woman sobbed. Draco felt a stab of pity, not knowing whether it was for his best friend or his teacher.  
  
"He's all right. He doesn't know how to cope with the situation, is all. It's frustrating him no end." The blond could feel the rage boiling beneath the surface, despite the excellent mental shields Harry had built.  
  
"Careful. His minions are everywhere-" A wracking cough halted the warning.  
  
"We know, Professor. We fought through them to get to you. They won't want to get in the way." In fact, the group left the stairwell moments later, surprising a clump of Death Eaters at the other end of the corridor. The dark-robed adults hesitated only a moment before fleeing in terror.  
  
Ron, his worry leaking through the Frateris bond, glanced at Draco and his charge briefly and dropped back.  
  
"I'll take her, Dragon," the redhead offered. Draco nodded, and Ron continued to speak softly as he picked up the teary-eyed witch. "We can move faster this way. It's all right, Professor. Mum's waiting for us all at the castle. She'll be so happy to see you." McGonagall clutched the teen's neck like a lifeline.  
  
It was only a matter of minutes before the group emerged into the moonlit courtyard. Draco breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing his godfather's bright green cloak and the crimson of the two Marauders. The strange man in yellow was also with them, and they seemed unhurt. Thank the gods.  
  
The Potions Master was the first to see the teenagers and their teacher and stepped forward, holding out a familiar wand. As the older woman accepted the fourteen-inch length, Draco recognized it as the Transfiguration Professor's primary wand. Her spare was probably still strapped to Harry's arm underneath the armour. Then Dumbledore came up behind the newly rescued witch.  
  
"Minerva?" the wizened headmaster said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. A hint of fright in her eyes, she turned her head. The sight of the wizard melted the fright into joy, and she burst into tears again.  
  
"Uncle Albus," she sobbed, flinging her arms around his torso. A little shocked, Dumbledore began to make soothing sounds, stroking his protégée's black hair.  
  
"I haven't needed to comfort you since you were in school, my dear," Draco heard the venerable wizard whisper. "Everything will be all right, my dear." With a nod to the two generations of students around him, the headmaster guided his deputy to one of the female dragon's , who immediately crouched as low to the ground as she possibly could. The remainder of the group quietly clambered atop the other dragons as the female leapt from the ground with a mighty sweep of her wings.  
  
[Hold tightly, Sir Powder, Lady Honey. Here we go again.] For the second time that night, Draco wondered how the dragons knew their codenames. Perhaps the creatures he was named for could read their minds. Regardless of what he was thinking, his grip on the spinal ridge tightened and Lavender's arms about his waist became comfortably snug. Seconds later he was submerged in inky blackness and biting cold. Again, he barely had time to take in the strange surroundings before the jolting motion of transfer came a fourth time. A three-quarters full moon shone down on the eight dragons and their passengers as they winged over the tangled treetops of the Forbidden Forest.  
  
Instead of landing in the clearing they'd left, the flight continued over the snow-shrouded grounds to land in front of the great oaken doors of the castle.  
  
"Thank you," the blond said as he gave the shoulder before him a firm whack. His namesakes didn't have to do anything for them, after all. The bull snorted as Draco slid down the scaly leg, the hot breath producing a large cloud of steam. The fifth-year was catching his honey-haired companion when the doors flew open and five very worried witches rushed out to greet them.  
  
"You did it!" Madam Pomfrey crowed, embracing both Dumbledore and McGonagall. Mrs. Weasley promptly began to fuss over her three offspring, as well as Hermione and Harry. Professor Figg was wrapped around Sirius, and his Aunt Rita had appeared from somewhere to thoroughly snog Moony.  
  
Wait. Aunt Rita and Moony snogging? Draco looked again. Yes, they were, and they looked as if they were quite enjoying themselves. He shuddered. For some reason, his godmother with anyone felt slightly off. For the man to be a second godfather to his best friend-if such a thing was possible- made it even stranger.  
  
Joining Pomfrey in cosseting the deputy headmistress was Professor Sprout. While her presence was mildly surprising, it made a certain amount of sense. Both witches were Heads of their particular Houses, and had worked together for years. They might even share a fairly close friendship, unknown to the students. Draco's speculation was suddenly halted by Lavender's elbow in his ribs.  
  
"Professor Snape looks a bit lonely, don't you think?" the girl whispered. The Potions Master was indeed drooping, and the boy knew why. Wen Altair wasn't there to coo over the wizard. A half-smile quirking his lips, Draco moved to stand by his godfather.  
  
"Thanks for helping, Uncle Sev," he said quietly. The pale man jumped slightly, but relaxed immediately.  
  
"You youngsters did the important part," he demurred. "You deserve the credit."  
  
"It was a two-pronged attack. You and the others got her wand back. And you kept us from being overwhelmed by Death Eaters. Besides, what would Wen say if she heard you talking like that?" The little jab was rewarded by a faint blush colouring his godfather's features. "Go fire-call her and wish her a Happy Christmas for me." Uncle Sev rolled his eyes, but Draco saw him smile a bit as he swept into the castle.  
  
"Oh, Harry!" The sound of Professor McGonagall's voice made the blond turn and look. Still wrapped in only her shift and Harry's violet cloak, the woman had wrapped herself around the young wizard again. "This is the best Christmas present I could have gotten!"  
  
"Oh, Circe," the former Slytherin muttered to himself. "Not again." His best friend was going to be 'adopted' by yet another person. Of course, the Weasleys had first claim on the boy hero. Hagrid, according to Harry, was somewhat like a tornado in some Muggle story about a girl named Dorothy. Draco didn't understand much except that the half-giant had swept his friend from his horrible life with the Dursleys into the wonders of the wizarding world.  
  
He knew now just how bad an impression he had made that day in Madame Malkin's. Compared to him, the Weasleys must have seemed like a flock of descending angels. Strange angels, but angels regardless. It explained Harry's reaction on the train very well.  
  
It was going to be a strange Christmas, as far as Draco was concerned. At least he'd have good use of his present fund this year.  
  
Next chapter may seem a bit sappy and dull to many of you after this action- packed instalment, but I promise some plot twists you may not be expecting! See you next time!  
  
Beth Weasley 


	25. In which there is Christmas

A/N- Erm... Hi? I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to leave everyone hanging this long, but I had to wipe my hard drive, and then I couldn't get Word, and I've gotten stuck... I know, it's a whole bunch of excuses, but I'm really sorry I haven't updated in three and a half months. But here is the long-awaited Christmas chapter. Yes, Christmas has come to my Hogwarts. This chapter does jump back and forth in time a little bit, so I'll lay out some basics here. Sev's section starts on Boxing Day, with a recap of his gifts. Harry's section starts on Christmas morning. Draco's part also starts on Boxing Day. I believe I've alluded to some surprises in this chapter, so on with the fic!  
  
Chapter 25  
  
In which there is Christmas  
  
Severus found himself enjoying Christmas for a change. The entire Dream Team had sent him gifts, even young Mr. Weasley. Of course, each package had been labelled with the sender's pseudonym save Draco's, and the one reading "Flame" had consisted entirely of Wizard Wheezes. The Potions Master had taken the precaution of reading each tag carefully and then consulting with the Weasley twins—his best students after Draco, though he'd never admit it to anyone—to confirm what he had. Who knew where the tricks would come in handy?  
  
Granger had actually found an ancient volume on potions that was not to be found in either the school's vast library or his own considerable personal collection. A glance inside had shown pre-Egyptian hieroglyphs and a note saying that Granger would be happy to help translate if he wished the assistance.  
  
Miss Weasley had sent a tin of his favourite biscuits, having probably pried the information from his godson. Potter had sent a Muggle novel and film, both titled The Wizard of Oz, with a note awkwardly comparing him to the Cowardly Lion, but with no offence intended. Severus understood what the boy meant, and cursed the Dursleys again, wherever they were. Two months had passed since the attack on Azkaban, and they were still missing.  
  
Brown had purchased a set of deep green robes with subtle silver trim in honour of his House and his loyalty to the school, while Draco had found two recent books by his favourite Muggle author, Terry Pratchett. He wasn't about to give any information about Wen's gift, though. That was private.  
  
Boxing Day found the Slytherin Head in his lab again, brewing calming draughts and Dreamless Sleep for Pomfrey, who had used most of her stash on Minerva over the past day. Albus had also requested that he whip up a pregnancy test, for some odd reason. Knowing the Dark Lord's obsession with his colleague, however, Severus had the bad feeling that the draught was intended for her.  
  
The lean professor had just started to read the Wizard of Oz when someone knocked on his door. He carefully marked his place with a length of emerald ribbon before opening the oaken portal.  
  
"Minerva? Poppy let you out of the infirmary?" The woman was a shadow of her former self, cringing were she stood. Her eyes were reddened and the lids puffy, a sure sign of recent weeping. Every alarm in Severus' head began to go off. "How are you?"  
  
"Oh, gods, Severus," Minerva gasped before breaking into fresh tears. A bit disturbed by the rare phenomenon of the usually unflappable Deputy Headmistress in such a state, the tall wizard guided her to an armchair and began tentative attempts at soothing her.  
  
"What's wrong, Minerva?" he asked as the tears dried. He didn't mention that he'd never seen he like this before. After all, she'd only just been released from being the captive of a deranged and obsessed Dark Lord for two months.  
  
"I—I'm pregnant, and it has to be his," she sobbed. The venom in the pronoun left no doubt as to who she meant, and Severus saw red. How dare he? Now it's personal. No one hurts Hogwarts staff and gets away with it. The Potions Master felt a great debt to those who had given him a home and a purpose knowing what he had done, what he had been.  
  
"It's yours, too, Minerva. There is no more likelihood for the babe to be evil than for anyone else." If anyone knew that, he did. Salazar and Jezebel Snape had raised him to be a Dark Wizard, yet he served the Light. "More often, the determining factor is in how the child is raised. You will bring up the babe with kindness and love; I know you at least that well. He—Tom—would teach only cruelty and hate."  
  
The dark-haired witch sniffled loudly, and Severus offered his handkerchief. Minerva mopped her face and then gave him a doubtful look.  
  
"But I don't know how to be a mother," she murmured. The lean wizard shook his head in amazement.  
  
"How many years have you been Head of Gryffindor? We're already surrogate parents for our students. Besides, you have Molly Weasley to help."  
  
"But, Severus..." The whinging tone made him wince, and he threw up his hands in frustration.  
  
"Half of it is pure instinct, Molly tells me. Augh, just let me call some backup, Kit." Turning to the cheerful blaze in his grate, he reached for a pinch of Floo Powder from the jade pot on the mantle and tossed it inside. "Weasley quarters, Hogwarts," he muttered as he crouched and thrust his head into the flames.  
  
The room he peered into—a kitchen, of course—was haphazard but homey. Two pots scrubbed themselves in the sink, and an assortment of baking components stood in line on the counter.  
  
"Molly! Molly, it's Severus! I need some help!" He could hear his voice echo a bit in the suite of rooms.  
  
"Coming, dear!" the plump little witch called from another chamber. Seconds later, she popped in through the leftmost door, a look of distracted worry on her features. "What do you need, dear?"  
  
"Minerva's here, in my quarters, distraught due to— *ahem*— a particularly female condition. I believe you are, shall we say, far better qualified to have these discussions with her." Thank the gods I don't blush easily with my skin. Molly, bless her, nodded sagaciously.  
  
"I'll be right there. Don't let her go anywhere; I've been looking her for the past hour."  
  
"Yes. Hurry, please." He hated having to use that tone of voice, but he needed Molly's aid now.  
  
"I'm only a hop, skip, and a jump away, dear. Three minutes, tops." With that, the short woman disappeared through the same door. The Potions Master sighed before drawing himself back into his own rooms.  
  
"Severus..." Minerva spoke his name with a sob. It tore him to shreds to see the steady Transfiguration professor in such a state.  
  
"Ssh, Kit, one step at a time. You'll get through this with your head held high, and undoubtedly a wonderful child of your own." His little speech was rewarded with a hiccoughing sob. He had just buried his face in his hands when Molly rapped on the door.  
  
"Thank the gods you're here," he hissed as he let the older witch in. "I can't do a thing with her!" The redhead responded with a wry grin and a shrug before crouching by Minerva's armchair.  
  
"Hey now, let's dry up those tears. Have a little faith in yourself, and everything will turn out all right. You'll be a wonderful mother. Would you like to help me bake some cookies? I was just going to find you to ask, and it's just what you need." An arm about the other witch's shoulders, Molly deftly led her from Severus' quarters.  
  
"Gods," Severus sighed as he collapsed in the chair he'd vacated earlier. Molly always made him think of his image of Wen in twenty or thirty years, and it made his head spin from time to time.  
  
Wen, he thought. I haven't spent time with her, just the two of us, in so long. He really liked the present she had given him, but actually being with her would be leagues better. Albus does owe me a great deal of holiday time, come to think of it. I wonder if Wen would like a week or two in Greece.  
  
The though was parent to the act, and Albus' leave was quickly obtained. A quick fire-call to the other Slytherin was similarly successful.  
  
"Greece? And no tourists? Give me half an hour to pack and get Rebecca to mind the store, and I'll meet you at the Leaky Cauldron." Rebecca Santari was Wen's savvy Ravenclaw partner and the brainchild behind many of their clothing store's unique Muggle-magical products.  
  
Severus' trunk was quickly packed, and he jotted a quick note to Draco before Flooing to the London tavern.  
  
"Sev!" The ecstatic cry was immediately followed by Wen flinging her arms around him. She pecked him on the cheek and leaned back to look at him through her eyelashes. "So where is this little spot of yours?"  
  
"Now is that any way to greet your boyfriend?" he scolded playfully. He only got a moment of warning when her steely blue eyes hardened, and then the mousy-haired witch ensnared him with a soul-stealing kiss.  
  
"That better, love?" Wen asked as she pulled away. He barely noticed the wolf-whistles as he nodded, dazed. Circe, but I love her.  
  
"It's a little island in the Aegean. No one but us and the wild animals," he murmured, just low enough for her to hear.  
  
"Sounds wonderful." The smoky tone of her voice made his chest—and other sections of his anatomy—grow tight. It was going to be a fantastic holiday.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Harry woke Christmas morning to Draco jumping on him, Ron flashing a grin like that cat who'd been in the cream. There was a veritable mountain of presents weighing down his feet.  
  
"All right, all right, Flame, you got your revenge." Harry sighed and picked up a knobbly lump from the top of his pile. "Dobby. Wonder what he's knit for me this year." Inside was a stocking cap—hand-knit, of course—in red and violet stripes. ~It figures he'd find out about that.~  
  
Thus begun, the wrapping paper flew thick and fast. Hermione had made knitted versions of their Animagus forms, and the twins had packed up a variety of their products, which were doing a brisk business in the common room during term. Ron and Lavender had both opted for the old standby: Chocolate Frogs. Sirius stopped by the common room before lunch, while the group was lounging around in front of the fire, to present him with a professional dueller's wand holster that could be strapped to either forearm or thigh. Remus took a moment during lunch to give him an expensive cloak that was charmed to keep him dry and comfortable in any weather. Draco, ingeniously, had found a CD player and an assortment of CDs somewhere and charmed them to work on magic instead of batteries.  
  
Ginny's gift, however, was the most personal to the young wizard. Her small silver-wrapped box held in its velvet lining a tiny crystal lily strung on a fine silver chain. Unashamed by the femininity of the necklace, Harry had promptly fastened it about his neck, feeling protective magic drape about him as the charm settled just below his collarbones.  
  
However, he was still worried about Professor McGonagall. He knew what had been done to her, despite all attempts to block it from his memory. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep all holiday. Even after last night's battle, when he should have been too exhausted for dreams, he had been plagued by memories of Voldemort's atrocities. His mind made up, the green- eyed teen headed for the Hospital Wing in mid-afternoon.  
  
"She's asleep, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said when he entered the ward. "I've given her Dreamless Sleep, so you had better not wake her. The gods know she needs the rest." Harry agreed, of course. If only the potion could keep away his Voldemort-induced visions.  
  
Seating himself in the stiff chair by McGonagall's bed, Harry began to speak quietly to his professor. "I wish I could have spared you the past two months. I've been on pins and needles since Halloween, and it was pure agony when you'd told me where you were and I couldn't go yet. Dumbledore made sure we were prepared before the assault, though. He taught us to shield wandlessly, and he taught Draco and I more about our ancestors' weapons." He realized he was babbling, but he didn't really care.  
  
"You're going to have a beautiful little girl, you know. Sweet as can be. She'll never hurt a fly. Tom will want to brainwash her, but we'll protect you both. I'll teach her about Parseltongue so she won't be afraid of her own abilities." He had no idea where this knowledge came from, just that it was truth. He made a mental note to tell his teacher again later, when she was awake. Silent now, he leaned forward, just watching the slender witch. Molly Weasley found him in that position.  
  
"Oh, Harry." The boy leaned back as he felt the warm arms wrap around him. A solid, hot weight fell into his lap, and he opened his eyes to look into a pair the same hue, belonging to a black kitten enveloped in a red Weasley jumper. "Happy Christmas, dear," Mrs. Weasley whispered. Harry had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from laughing.  
  
"Thanks, Mum. I don't have anything for you, though." He had gotten used to calling the witch "Mum" or "Mum Weasley," and she would be his mother-in- law one day.  
  
"You don't have to, dear. Just take good care of him. He's half Kneazle." The kitten's tail did seem considerably bushier at the tip. At least his face wasn't squashed like Crookshanks'. "Go find your friends and start a snowball fight. Not a soul has touched what fell last night. I'll watch over Minerva."  
  
Smiling, Harry scooped up both kitten and jumper and reluctantly left the infirmary. He didn't start a snow war, though. The dark-haired teen retreated to the common room, where he found Draco and Lav cuddling on one of the couches.  
  
"No twins in here, are there?" he asked, peering around the room. Both of his friends replied in the negative, and Draco fixed him with a mild glare.  
  
"They're in the Weasley quarters with Ron and 'Mione, which you'd know if you'd bothered to ask them yourself." Harry shrugged and put the kitten in an armchair before stepping back and transforming into Prowler.  
  
Aha! A small voice squeaked at him. I thought you smelled an awful lot like a cat, but not at all like a Kneazle. Prowler blinked and then moved closer to the armchair. The kitten looked up at him in wonder. Oh my, it chirped. You're a large version of me, almost.  
  
Or you're a tiny me, the panther grumbled back. Was this how Hermione felt when she spoke to SkyStrike? What is your name, kitling?  
  
My mum called me Annoyance, but the other kitlings call me Hunter. Hunter cocked his head to one side. Why?  
  
How am I to know what to call you otherwise? I am called Prowler or Harry, your choice. His nose twitched. You, kitling, are in desperate need of a bath.  
  
What? No! Not a bath! Hunter tried to scramble away, but got a mite tangled in the jumper, and a large black paw on his back end trapped him. Harry quickly began to use his rough tongue efficiently, and the size differential made the task into a moment's work. Prowler soon became the human Harry again.  
  
"See? That wasn't so bad. It's not as though I'm going to dunk you in a bucket of water, Hunter." The black kitten grumbled.  
  
Lav eyed him strangely. "Who gave you the mascot?" Draco had fixed him with a similar look.  
  
"Hunter?" Harry asked, lifting the kitten. "Mum Weasley. And no, she doesn't know about our extracurriculars. It's really very odd."  
  
"Mum can be that way from time to time," a new voice commented form the portrait hole. Harry looked up to see Ginny climb through. "For example, she always knows when company's on the way. She warned me that morning before first year that a guest was almost in, but I didn't listen. I'm not making that mistake again." Ginny smiled wryly. "I'm afraid I didn't make a terribly good first impression."  
  
"You'd already made a good impression on me, dear," Harry murmured as she settled into the armchair with him, careful not to squish Hunter. "You were nice to me without realizing I was famous." Ginny flushed.  
  
"Only you. You're the only person I know who doesn't want fame in even the tiniest way." She snuggled close, whispering. "I know what you do want, though."  
  
"People to love me for who I am, and not for what my mother's love has done." The important things said, the next few hours were spent in cuddles, sweet nothings, and tender kisses.  
  
Christmas dinner was more festive than anything Harry had ever known. The Weasley clan was, of course, the main reason for the fun. Gred and Forge managed to slip Canary Crèmes, Ton-Tongue Toffees, and Colour-Changing Canes among the dessert treats, making the end of the meal particularly entertaining. Dumbledore, enchanted by the Canes, looked like a Christmas tree.  
  
Bill and Charlie were all too happy to regale the group with tales of their adventures at work. Percy, however, was very quiet. Ginny commented to Harry that she intended to speak to her brother after the meal. Naturally, he followed discreetly.  
  
"Perce, we're not mad at you. Yes, you were a prat over the summer, but you have a right to your opinion. We thought you trusted Harry and Dumbledore more than that, is all. Granted, your job bores the rest of us half to death. That doesn't mean we don't want to know how you feel, how things are going for you at the Ministry. We still love you, Perce."  
  
Percy began to crack a tiny smile. "Well, Fudge is rapidly losing support. When Ms. Skeeter released the whole story about the Third Task and Barty Crouch, Jr., he lost all but the most idiotic of his backing. Lucius Malfoy's arrest over the abuse of his family had already been fairly destructive at that point." He was rewarded with a smile and a firm hug from his baby sister.  
  
"That sort of news is interesting. Who do you think will be elected Minister when he's gone?" Oh boy. Politics, Harry thought.  
  
"Some have said Harry in my hearing, others say Professor Dumbledore. There have been rumours about Father being considered, but Amelia Bones would do well, too. I'm just not sure. What is behind the whispers I've heard about Sirius Black?"  
  
~Gin, I'm going to join in now.~  
  
{Okay, love. You're better at explaining Padfoot anyway.} Smiling, Harry stepped out of the shadows and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend, his chin on her shoulder.  
  
"I can tell you about Sirius, Percy. Aside from Remus, I probably know the entire story best."  
  
"How do you know?" the slender redheaded man asked shrewdly.  
  
"Let's see." Harry began to tick off sources on his fingers. "Sirius, Remus, and Pettigrew straightened the story out for me the night Ron's leg was broken in third year. Pettigrew confessed everything. Wormtail—that's Pettigrew's nickname—has repeatedly shown that he's Tom's creature. He was the one who killed Cedric. Then there's the two letters Mum and Dad left for me in a trunk in the family vault. There's Dad's pocket watch, which said Pettigrew was, and I quote, 'in hiding, the filthy traitor.' I took a picture of that and gave it to Dumbledore before I took the watch to the jewellers'." Harry pulled the watch from his trousers and popped the catch, showing Percy the eight hands for himself, the rest of the Dream Team, and the two remaining Marauders. "Pettigrew was caught in the battle on Halloween, and he has confessed in front of Aurors under Veritaserum. Honestly, I don't know why Sirius isn't free yet. He's not the murderer, after all, Wormtail is."  
  
Percy looked into space for a moment, deep thought evident on his face. "I do believe you, Harry, but I think I'd have to see Peter Pettigrew alive and hear the story myself from both him and Mr. Black before I make a decision."  
  
"That's all right." Harry smiled warmly. This was the behaviour he'd like to expect from a government official. "Actually, I'd rather hoped you'd say something like that."  
  
Percy returned the smile. "Well, I'd rather act like a proper Ministry employee that a judgemental idiot."  
  
Later that night, Harry slept only fitfully. His rest was disturbed for hours, but he was unable to wake, for he was trapped in visions of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Punishment was being dealt for the assault the night before.  
  
"You fools!" the Dark Lord roared on several occasions. "You allowed yourselves to be bested by children and traitors! Crucio!" Harry felt an echo of the Unforgivable every time it was cast.  
  
Bellatrix Lestrange was among those punished for failure that night. Harry only recognized her from the picture that had been in the Daily Prophet when she escaped. She knelt before Tom eagerly.  
  
"You allowed the traitor to dispatch you, Bellatrix. I am ashamed. My most faithful servant, beaten by the least. Crucio!" The witch writhed on the ground, a look of unholy glee on her pointed features.  
  
"Your cousin was with the traitor, was he not?" the evil wizard asked. "How powerful is the Black whelp? I have heard rumours, but they seemed blown out of proportion."  
  
"His shield is sky blue, my lord. The blood traitor had the Aurors drooling all over him when he graduated." There was a look of disgust on the woman's face. Harry knew Sirius was the only Black who had been on the mission. Hadn't he been paired with Professor Snape?  
  
"Damned Gryffindors," Voldemort cursed. "They take the most powerful children, and now they are corrupting my Slytherins. Why did you not tell me of Black's potential before? Crucio!" Harry woke then, drenched in sweat, his sheets once again in knots around him.  
  
"Oh, God," he muttered. He wasn't going to be able to sleep any more tonight. With a groan, the teen pulled on his new jumper and a pair of thick woollen socks. His movements woke Hunter, who was curled on the end of the bed.  
  
What's wrong, Prowler? The kit asked through a yawn.  
  
"I can't sleep, little one," Harry whispered back. "My night-hunt is being disturbed by evil. You go back to sleep." Hunter obediently tucked his nose back into his stomach fur.  
  
Quietly, so as not to wake his friends in the beds next to his, Harry crept down the stairs and left the Tower. Hands in his pyjama pockets, he wandered through the castle, deep in thought.  
  
At some point, the sleepless teen nearly tripped over Sirius and Professor Figg, who were involved in a passionate snog session. They were too absorbed in each other to realize they were right in front of the Prefects' Bathroom.  
  
"Bloody Hell! Can't you two at least go somewhere private when you do that? You're still a wanted man, Sirius! What if some Ravenclaw saw you? Or, God forbid, a Slytherin?" Both adults looked up at his outburst, blinking.  
  
"What?" Sirius asked blankly. Professor Figg smacked the back of his head and put her face in her hands.  
  
"We're such idiots. And to think I'm a Ravenclaw. I should know better," she groaned. When Sirius didn't move, she jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. For some reason, his godfather transformed into Padfoot without batting an eye. The dog sat with the stiffness of a statue. Professor Figg groaned again. "I'll take him to Madam Pomfrey since he's catatonic. Try not to run into Filch, Prowler. He's in a foul mood tonight."  
  
As the blonde woman walked off with Padfoot in her arms—she was obviously stronger than she looked—Harry suppressed a roar of frustration.  
  
Calm down, he told himself. This is the sort of thing Tom would do. I do not control their lives. They owe me nothing. He was worried for his godfather. The man had only a spatter of common sense, and that went straight out of his head around Arabella Figg.  
  
More angry at himself than anything now, the Gryffindor stalked away, his feet leading him up through the castle. He emerged at the summit of the Astronomy Tower and, seeing that he could go no further, sat between the crenellations, his feet dangling into the void.  
  
"Harry?" a familiar voice questioned some time later. He turned to see Ginny step off the stairs. "Come down from there, please," she requested. "Seeing you that close to the edge frightens me."  
  
Swinging his legs back inside the tower's battlements, the young wizard noticed that Ginny was wrapped in the cloak he'd received from Remus. The auburn-haired witch sat down beside him and enfolded him in the material's warmth.  
  
"You're freezing, love. What has you up at this hour?" Harry sighed, leaning his head against Ginny's.  
  
"Visions. Tom's punishing them tonight." The girl grimaced in sympathy.  
  
"I couldn't find a charm to block those for you, but that pendant can shut out normal nightmares." She gently touched the crystal lily. "It helps against manufactured dreams, too, like Occlumency does."  
  
Harry blinked at her. "I didn't think about those sort of charms. I felt the protective ones, but I hadn't an inkling of those. You put a hell of a lot of work into a simple Christmas gift."  
  
"You did more on mine." She lightly punched his arm. "A personal astrological chart isn't easy, and you did predictions, too. Trelawney didn't teach you that."  
  
The young wizard blushed. He'd spent a week in the library researching for his friends' charts. Ginny's alone had taken three days, due to several odd conjunctions and strange planetary positions. He hadn't done his own birth, though. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what the stars had in store for the Boy Who Lived.  
  
"Darling," Ginny murmured, snuggling into his side, "you think too much.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Draco spent much of Boxing Day in the library with Lavender and Hermione, boning up on legal procedures they could bring to bear against the Ministry in Sirius' defence. There had been little action as of yet, and a hearing was scheduled for the beginning of Easter Holidays. Three Ravenclaws were also in the huge room, but they paid no attention to the Gryffindors.  
  
"Merlin's beard!" Draco muttered as he looked through several back issues of the Daily Prophet. "Pads never got a trial in the first place! Do you know how much he could get for gross miscarriage of the law?"  
  
Both girls looked up at him, their eyes wide. "They just carted him off to Azkaban when Dumbledore told them he had been the Secret Keeper?" the brown- haired witch asked. Draco nodded gravely.  
  
"Damn them all to the sixth level of hell, then," Lavender growled. The statement was met with incredulous stares. "Let's take them for every last Knut."  
  
"Uh, Lav, a bankrupt Ministry is not what Britain needs with old Mouldy recruiting." Draco frowned at his girlfriend.  
  
"Then focus on Fudge! He was probably behind it all!" Hermione clamped a hand over the honey-haired witch's mouth, glancing nervously at a glaring Madam Pince. Draco read through a few more articles before stopping to quote.  
  
"'While those closest to Sirius Black and the Potters have expressed disbelief that Black could have committed such heinous acts, many feel that he should be imprisoned immediately.  
  
"'Minister Fudge himself supports this opinion. "What sort of man causes the deaths of three of his closest friends and laughs?" the Minister asked a reporter this morning. Black is currently being held for questioning.' That's all that one says about it. The next day's issue only says that he was transferred to Azkaban. I think Fudge did railroad the old dog."  
  
"What's this I hear about canines?" The trio turned to see Remus and Snuffles headed their way. Madam Pince looked ready to explode.  
  
"Just discussing a mutual friend," Draco replied blithely, making sure Remus noticed his glance at the Animagus. Snuffles winked back. At least the man was Slytherin enough to see the ruse.  
  
"Ah, I see," the former professor replied. He smirked as he joined the table, staring for a moment at a Ravenclaw reading the Quibbler upside-down nearby before leaning in to speak. "Fudge was quite eager to put our friend in Azkaban. I agree with the railroading theory. Planning to take him down to the last button?"  
  
Lavender grinned maliciously. "Abso-bloody-lutely, sir."  
  
"Well, then, we'll have to get cracking on the scant evidence we have." As the older wizard began laying out plans, small smirks became wider.  
  
Yeah, I don't like Fudge. Cookies to those who see the cameo in the chapter! Anyone with suggestions, please review them to me, and I'll give you a Draco plushie. *looks around* Anyone seen Sev, Rem, or Siri lately? Or Albus? They've sort of gone missing on me... The only muses I have left are Harry and Draco, and they're determined to go at it all the time... *blushes* I swear, they bite me with another fic and leave this one hanging. Maybe I need to teach them manners. Anyway, maybe I'll get some inspiration and have another chapter out to you all soon. I know another chapter of Bring Me to Life is on the way, and I'm putting up a prequel for this story that is unconditionally a one-shot. Happy Anniversary, Bonds of Pain!  
  
3-9-04  
  
Beth Weasley  
  
Just a note from Endora: Happy Anniversary, Bonds of Pain! I can't believe it's been a year already. It is scary how the time flies, but it is great to see how many enjoy it. =) 


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